No Place to Call Home
by Machias Banshee
Summary: After tempers have flared, Raphael found himself without a home and with a whole new slew of problems. In our latest chapter, our prodigal turtle is coming to his senses, and is making the long trek back. Only problem is, this isn't going to be a simple jaunt back to the lair. All of his past actions are going to come back at him. And all actions have consequences...
1. Chapter 1

No Place to Call Home

By Machias Banshee

Chapter One

Sleep. Five minutes of sleep, that was probably all he wanted. Hell, that was all I wanted, but that wasn't going to happen. With Leonardo's usual bout of shithead-itis and me trying to get to my room after spending the night patrolling, well, let's just say Splinter wasn't in his normal 'cheerful' morning mood. He was still tying his robe when he entered the living room where Leo and I were. Here, I'll do a flashback for ya…

I crept in through the door as quietly as I could. I paused to catch my breath, as I had just about run the whole way from Casey's corner. I hung my coat and fedora and made my way through the living room toward the hall. The living room was still dark, which meant no one was up yet.

I made it to the door of my room, when a hand fell on my shoulder. I spun around to find Leo looking at me. Either he had been sleeping on the couch, or he had been in the dojo practicing for only God knows why at this time. Either way, it was a bad sign.

"Shit Leo, what the hell are you doing?" I groaned, lowering my guard.

"What are **you** doing?" He asked in a low hiss. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Its time for me to go to bed, which I'm trying to do right now" I remarked. I just wanted some sleep, so I kept my talking to a minimum. He leaned an arm across the doorway, barring my entry.

'Let me through, Leo," I said, narrowing my eyes. "It's too damn early in the morning to start arguing and shit, okay?"

"No. Where have you been?" he snapped. Even in the dark, I could see him glaring at me. "Splinter's been going nuts wondering where you were, and I had to tell him I didn't know. I looked like an idiot, thanks to you."

"I was out, and you already were an idiot," I replied as I headed back out to the living room. Any arguing in the hall was sure to wake the others up, and that was the last thing I needed at this moment. I did my best to ignore him. I grabbed one of the couch pillows and the overthrow on the back. I half fell onto the couch, pulling the blanket over my head.

"Don't give me that bull, 'I was out'… Splinter ended up giving ME hell because I didn't know where YOU were," He started. He whipped off my blanket and tossed it into Splinter's recliner.

"Dammit, Leo." I got back to my feet, feeling more and more annoyed.

"If you think you're going to just come in and out at whatever time you please," he hissed, pointing his finger in my face, "you got another thing coming."

"You know damn well that I go hang with Casey whenever I can," I said, slapping his hand from my face. "Besides, you're not my father, so quit talking like you are, or 'you got another thing coming'" I replied, using my best 'Leo voice'.

"Why the hell are you always like this," he said shaking his head. "Mike and Don are never this much trouble…"

"I prefer not having my head halfway up your ass all the time. What, is holding your 'Ani Powers' over them not enough, so you gotta harass me now?"

"No, because what you do hinders us as a group!"

"The fuck? Where the hell do you get off telling me that I'M the one screwing up all the time?"

"WE always have to worry about where the hell you are. WE are the ones who have to try and track you down constantly. WE are the ones who don't know when you sneak off in the middle of the night." He said, clenching his jaw. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't even HAVE some of the problems we do!"

"Bullshit!" I snarled, "Me going out with Casey to clear the streets of gangs and shit is not causing problems!"

"You not being here is. Its like you don't even want to be a part of us. You're always going off on your own, like you don't wanna even wanna BE here!" He groaned in disgust, "If you're in such a goddamn hurry to go, then why don't you leave already..."

"Fuck you, Leo! You don't know what I'm—"

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused us both to turn.

'Kay, back to the present…

I threw Leo a dirty look as Splinter approached us, still trying to tame his case of bed—face. Uh, yeah…Well, let me just say now that I pretty much knew that I was gonna be the one to blame…

"Master, I caught him sneaking into the lair, again. It's the third time this week!" Leo started.

See? I knew this was coming. It happens every time that Leo doesn't like something that I do. Most of his first sentences to Splinter are usually this whiny shit. 'Tattling' on me, or ratting on me, somehow. Heh, bad pun there.

I know what you're thinking, 'But you two NEVER get along'. Well, yeah, Leo and me are always doin' that sibling rivalry junk. We don't hate each other's guts, though I'm starting to get towards that point.

This past week had been just frickin' ridiculous. Constantly on my back over every damn little issue, not hesitating to point out my screw-ups. Everyday had either began or ended with an argument. I was getting fed up with it, and so was everyone else. But I was the one to get the finger pointed at. I remember one sarcastic remark I made about him being good as a lawyer—fact twisting, blood-sucking parasite that he is. And today definitely wasn't in my favor either…

Splinter then folded his arms and turned to me, dark rings of no sleep under his eyes. He must have been waiting up for me last night too. I could tell what was coming even before he said anything.

"Raphael, where have you been? Your brothers and I have been worried about you," he started, straining back a yawn. Leo just kept glaring at me the whole time, but even he had that 'no sleep' look on his face.

"Come on, Sensei, It's not like I've been out robbing mini-marts and shit," I groaned. Leo stepped towards me, poking me in the shoulder with a finger.

"Try talking with some sort of respect," He said with a sneer. I swatted his hand away and growled low in my throat.

"I ain't talking to you, so shut up," I barked. He glared at me and I curled my lip at him. He went to move forward when strong hands pulled us apart. I looked away from Leo to see Mike and Don up watching us, sleep still blurring their wakefulness. Mike clutched his old teddy bear in one arm, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Don just had a zombie-ish look, mumbling incoherently. Splinter had a hand on each of our shoulders, frowning. He then turned Leo towards the hall, looking at the other two as well.

"Go back to bed, all of you, it is still very early", Splinter ordered, giving Leo a push in the direction of the bedrooms. I was about to go when Splinter held me back. He then gave me 'the look', and I groaned inwardly.

"Raphael, come with me...we must talk." He said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

Splinter and I walked into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the overhead light. The microwave display threw off just enough blue light to see where the furniture was. I leaned against the counter, looking at the clock. It was early—way too early in the morning for any sort of lecture. But that wasn't going to stop anything.

I yawned, watching Sensei fill a pot from the sink. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was thinking. He set the pot on the stove to boil, turned to me and indicated for us to sit at the table. I turned a chair backwards and sat down, folding my arms. Splinter sat across, one side of his face glowing blue as he looked at me.

"Raphael," He began. "I understand that you enjoy your late night patrols with Mr. Jones, but disappearing every night is taking its toll on you."

"Sensei, I'm fine", I replied, suppressing a yawn. "Yer worrying over noth—."

"I notice these things, Raphael", Splinter said, tapping the table with a finger. "You have been more than distracted during the past week. Your reactions while training have slowed considerably. You were extremely fortunate that Leonardo had been using the practice katana when he struck you in yesterday's practice."

"It was a lucky hit, Sensei," I started.

"Lucky? You could have bled to death if he had struck an inch higher," he said, frowning. I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to get into this conversation anymore than I'd done already.

"Look, it's not that big of a deal, Sensei," I groaned," I told you before, I just wasn't up to practice."

"Reason being?" Splinter asked, folding his arms. Behind us, the pot on the stove started to rumble a bit.

"I got other stuff on my mind," I said, shrugging. "Its nothing." The look I got told me I obviously wasn't going to get out of this conversation on 'nothing'. Well, least he was still calm, it could have been worse…

"'Nothing'? 'Nothing' has been breaking your concentration, 'nothing' has been slowing you down." He sighed. "Raphael…

"Sensei, all due respect…"I said, putting up my hands, "yer havin' a fit for NO reason."

"No reason? You are extremely fortunate that Leonardo was able to stop himself from causing any real damage," Splinter said, shaking his head, "It worries me what _would_ be a legitimate reason to you, my son."

I spoke too soon… Why was I not surprised that he got Leo into this conversation, again?

"Oh yeah, wonderful Leonardo and his goddamn expertise…" I muttered, fingering the bandage on my shoulder. "With all the stuff from him I have to put up with, I'd have preferred bleeding to death."

The kettle started screaming. Splinter frowned at me and stood up, walking to the stove. He reached up and pulled two mugs from the cupboard and turned to look back at me.

"He was worried about you when that had happened, just as he was concerned about your whereabouts during the past few days", Splinter said as he brought the items to the table, "Your brother is not heartless. He cares about you just as your other brothers and I do".

"Leo caring", I snorted, "How thoughtful, maybe I should write a thank you letter: 'Thank you for being such a pain in the ass and making life generally miserable'. I don't think so, Splinter." He looked at me and sighed, setting a mug in front of me on the table. _Great, more tea,_ I thought. _I've had enough during the past week to make my eyeballs float_…

"You forget how much you, your brothers and I depend upon each other", he replied, pouring tea into his own mug, "that is what makes a family strong: Strength in its unity."

I should have been listening, but at this point I was too tired to care. And the thing is, whenever I get tired, I get in a crappy mood. And me in a crappy mood having a talk with Splinter never lead to any good…

"Whatever…look, can we talk later", I started, getting to my feet, "I really don't care about this right now. I just wanna go to bed…"

"No, it is almost time for morning practice, you may as well stay awake and start warming up", He said, shaking his head, "After practice, if your performance is satisfactory, you may go to bed and rest."

"If my performance is _satisfactory_?!" I banged on the table, nearly knocking over the mugs, "The only way I do that is I'm just like Leo. I am **not** Leonardo, dammit, stop trying to treat me like him!"

Well, his ears went back, and his whiskers twitched a lil', but I could tell that he was pissed. After a moment, he set his mug down onto the table, and looked at me levelly.

"I have never wanted you to be _exactly_ like Leonardo. I want you to utilize your own individual skills and abilities in your practices, not compare yourselves to each other", He said.

"Sure as heck doesn't seem like it. Everything _I_ do is never good enough", I said, stepping from the table and looking at him angrily, "What the hell do you WANT from me?"

"When you speak to me, Raphael, you will use the proper respect as I have taught you", Splinter said sharply, " Leonardo tries to help you, not heckle you…you mustn't allow yourself to think the worst of everything." Unfortunately, my stubborn-ass temper had already kicked into high gear, and that was when I made my worst mistake…

"Thanks a lot for showing him how to be an assho--" I stopped myself, but I was too late. I couldn't believe I had let myself get that bad. I rubbed my eyes with a hand, too tired to think clearly. He paused for a moment and then looked down at his tea, shaking his head slightly. I sighed and shook my head, taking a step forward.

"Look, I—I'm sorry 'bout what I said, I—" I wasn't able to finish, though. He raised a hand and stood up, his eyes almost level with mine.

"Just go to bed and get some rest. Perhaps you will feel better afterwards…I will not force you to practice, because I know that would be futile. Please excuse me, I must gather your brothers for practice."

I sighed, looking at the floor. He left the room, leaving me in the blue light, alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three 

Well, long story short, I couldn't sleep after the argument. I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been. If there's anyone I don't mouth off to, its Sensei. Yeah, we have our disagreements, but honestly, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't even know how to fight… who knows if I'd be alive. Not only being disrespectful, belligerent and a general dickhead, I also threw his teachings back in his face.

Why does he always have to stick up for Leo? He says he doesn't, but he does. Mike and Don have seen it. Question it? Never... They don't want to get 'Daddy' or 'Big Brother' upset. What am I thinking, they don't have to deal with shit like I have to. Mike just pulls his 'I'm the youngest' crap, and Splinter bends over backwards for him. Donnie's not the youngest, but he knows how to get Splinter's attentions when he wants it. Me? Phht, I don't stand a chance. Never have and never will…

I sat up in my bed, having given up on sleep after an hour. My mind raced about whether I should or shouldn't go. If I stayed in my room, I would eventually go nuts from boredom and feeling guilty. If I went, Leo would undoubtedly remind everyone about this morning. Mike would be wondering what had been said in the kitchen, and Splinter would probably find some way to give me "an opportunity for improving my self-discipline". In other words, I'd be doing sit-ups until I puked…

"I gotta go to practice at some time in the future," I told myself. "No doubt Splinter will lecture me. I'll just talk to him and clear things up."

I gathered up my stuff and headed towards the door. My stomach had that feeling of butterflies, and I didn't understand why. I mean, I've gone to practice late dozens of times, and nothing ever happened, other than backflips. Why this, why now? I was probably just hoping that no one would make a big stink about it. But that was always one of the results of coming in late.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered to myself. "This is stupid…I'm just gonna go, screw em if they start talking."

I walked out of my room and made my way to the dojo. The sounds of Splinter's voice giving out commands growing louder, the knot in my stomach getting tighter. I could hear the sound of metal on wood, and smirked a bit. Leo was practicing, which meant he couldn't say anything without Splinter correcting him…

I stopped and bowed briefly before entering. Splinter turned, looking at me before nodding. Mike turned to me and waved. I sat down and watched as Leo and Donnie sparred.

"Hey bro, what took you?" Mike whispered. "Sensei didn't say why you weren't here, was starting to think you left or something."

"I'll explain later," I replied, trying not to get Splinter's attention. Mike just grinned, returning his attention to Don and Leo.

"Come on Donnie, show Leo who's boss!" Mike whooped, getting a small look from Splinter in the process. Leo started speeding up his attacks, probably cuz he knew I was there. Heh, poor Donnie didn't stand a chance… show-offing bastard.

"Matte," Splinter called, clapping once. Leo and Don stopped, bowed to each other and then to Master Splinter. Don just about collapsed onto the floor on Mike's other side. Mike grinned, clapping a hand on Don's shoulder, leaving me to look up at Leo's almost condescending looks.

"Raphael." Splinter's voice broke me from the stare-down. I stood up, nodding slightly; now was time to see what he was going to do with me. He said nothing at first, just studying me. I couldn't help but frown. If he decides to put me with Leo, just to 'teach me a lesson'…

"Michelangelo, you will be up against Raphael", he finally spoke, then turned to the other two, "Leonardo, Donatello, very good match." I exhaled, hiding a smirk as Leo almost disappointedly took a seat on the floor.

" All right…" Mike chuckled, before narrowing his eyes at me, "Dude, you're going down…"

"In your dreams, Bro…" I replied, grinning. Mike was about as intimidating as a kindergartner. I chuckled, twirling my sai. This was gonna be easy…

"Kiotsuke…" Splinter instructed us. We snapped to attention at the center of the mat. After the formalities, I gripped my sais and charged…

"Kiai!" I yelled, slashing forward. Mike jumped to the side doing a side block. I swung a leg out to sweep his feet. I caught one foot, and he back-flipped out of it. I did an upward thrust as he got to his feet, and he wrapped his chucks around my arm, attempting a lock, but I tuck and curled, rolling to the floor, weaving my arm out of the lock. We both stood up and circled each other. I somersaulted to the other end of the mat and stood, motioning him with a hand.

"Come on Mike, you can do better than that…" I goaded him. He took on a determined look and came after me again. I went to back flip, but he caught my foot, and I fell back. I found myself looking up from the floor, right in front of none other than Leonardo.

"Nice formation, Raph…I think I've seen better landings from a dead bird…" He whispered under his breath. I glared at him before getting back to my feet, concentrating on kicking my lil' brother's tail. Unfortunately, the hidden comment already began to affect me, as I had grown more impatient. I spun my sai in my hand and lunged forward, swiping with my sai lying along the length of my arm. I tried to backslash, but he got his nunchaku chains on my side blades, and yanked my arm behind my back. I gave a grunt, and let go of the sai, spinning out of the hold. I looked at Mike, who was now holding my sai in one hand.

"Missing something?" He said with a grin, tossing me back my sai. I caught it, muttering under my breath. Oh Yeah, THAT looked REALLY good for me…I got back into a Seisan Dachi—er, fighting stance, in layman terms. I could see Leo's patronizing look, and I felt my anger rise. Dammit, I started to wish I WAS fighting him… I turned my glare back to my brother, and gave a growl.

"Let's finish this, _Brother_…," I said, spinning my sai once. He seemed a little surprised by my sudden severity, but he narrowed his eyes at me, and we both lunged…

What happened faster than I could keep track of, and I still don't know how the hell he did it. I opened my eyes, finding myself on the floor. Mike knelt on top of me with one of my sai pointed to my throat.

"Checkmate", Mike grinned.

"Matte," I heard Splinter order. "Well done, Michelangelo."

I swore under my breath, and shoved Mike off me, getting to my feet. I could feel eyes bore into me, and I felt my face grow hot. I couldn't believe Mike, of all people had beaten me. I gave short quick bows before turning away, muttering to myself.

"I believe it is time for a brief interval", Splinter instructed. "You have five minutes."

I knew that as soon as we stepped out of the dojo, the heckling for letting Mike beat me would start. I avoided the others and headed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I went to the sink, taking my mask off. I ran cool water, cupping it in my hands and pressing it to my face.

I looked up at myself in the mirror. I saw the dark circles under my eyes, hidden from the others by my mask. I was tired, that was the only way Mike could have gotten the better of me. I'd spent about a weak and a half going out at night and doing stuff with Casey.

The others only thought it was the three times that Leo'd caught me coming back in the morning. I had to force myself to come back early the other times. I liked going out at night; I liked not being cooped up in the lair with the others. There are times that I would rather NOT be with the group. They are my family, but there are times that I think I'd be better off without them.

I shake my head, splashing more water on my face. Now wasn't the time to bet getting philosophical. If I wanna hear bullshit talk, I'll listen to Leo. Leo… knowing him, he's probably _waiting_ for me to come out so he can talk shit at me. He'd better not say a goddamn word to me if he wants to keep his manhood intact…

I took a towel from the rack, wiping my face dry. I could still see the blush on my face. Shit…well, I couldn't exactly skip practice, not without incurring Splinter's wrath. If I ended up getting restricted to the lair for earlier today, I was going to be pissed. The sooner I talk to him, the better chance I'll have to keep going out.

I quickly put my mask back on before leaving the bathroom. I could hear talking in the kitchen, which meant I still had time for a water break. As I walked into the kitchen, Mike and Don were sitting at the kitchen table, talking and laughing. Leo was leaning against the counter, downing water from his glass. Mike looked up and grinned.

"Hey Raph, still REELING from my grand victory?" Mike asked, getting a groan from Don.

"Yeh, real funny," I replied, grabbing a cup. "I'll get you on the second round, smart-ass."

"I don't think so dude," he said, getting to his feet. "Even Donnie's willing to wager."

"Mike, I said that it would probably result in a draw," Don said, shaking his head. They started back into their talk when Leo suddenly appeared beside me.

"So, how did your talk with Splinter go?" He said, looking at the glass in his hand. I ignored him, filling and then downing my glass of water. He folded his arms, leaning against the counter.

"Don't tell me he let you off," He said. "First you're sneaking off in the middle of the night, and now this?"

"It ain't none of your business, Leo, so shut up," I replied. I did my best to ignore him, but he kept at it, giving me a dirty look.

"It IS my business. How am I supposed to keep charge of the group when a quarter of it messes around and slows us all down?"

I spun towards him, pointing my finger in his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Leo. I don't wanna hear a word outta you…" I said flatly. I dropped my glass into the sink, catching the other two's attention. Mike and Don got real quiet. I knew they hated it when Leo and me start fighting.

"Well, frankly, I'm not surprised at this attitude," He snorted. "I don't know why Splinter bothers to correct you anyway. You never listen. Frankly, you're a waste of time to him and a danger to this team."

I stopped, turning to glare at him. I didn't notice the other two had gotten up from the table. I stood upright, stabbing a finger towards him.

"Where the fuck do you get this shit, saying who's a good member or not," I snarled. "What, am I not good enough for the clan anymore?"

"As far as I'm concerned, he should just stop training you," He replied. "After your performance the last few practices, I wouldn't trust you to watch my back or our brothers."

I blinked at him. Did he just say what I thought he said? Now the truth came out. Now we knew what he was thinking. After all the years of watching his back, after all the times I'd helped get his ass out of situations, he just took it and threw it all in my face. So this was the thanks I get. Screw you, you don't belong here…? I couldn't take it. After all of things he'd said in the week, after the fight and then this…

"You BASTARD," I snarled. "What are you gonna do, go tell 'Papa' to kick me off the team 'cuss you don't wick me'?" He glared at me. He hated it when I made fun of his old lisp, and I knew it.

"You're treading on enough thin ice as it is," He snapped. "Splinter agreed that you need time OFF the streets."

"What?" I looked at him, gripping the hilt of my sai. He folded his arms, smirking.

"You're getting restricted to the house. Indefinitely…"

"I oughta run you through for this," I growled.

"I doubt you could ever make good on your words…"

I rushed at him, pulling a sai from my belt. I lunged at him, intending to make good on my word…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

I never reached him. One second I was in mid-air going at my brother's throat, the next—

"Shit!"

Flat on the floor. The sudden union of the cement floor and my chin bounced me out of my angry haze, and I winced, looking upward. I couldn't see who was pinning me, but there was an undeniable pain setting my arm and shoulder on fire. Someone had my arm locked behind me, and kneeling on my shell to boot.

I could see Donnie taking Leo away from the scene, talking to him. Like it was of any goddamn help now. I hadn't even realized they were still there. My glare locked onto Mike, who was on the floor just behind me and must have been the one holding me down. Mike looked down at me as if I'd lost my mind. The only thing I'd lost was my patience…

"Dude, what's your problem? You gotta calm down." His eyes were huge.

"Mike," I growled, trying to push myself up with my free arm. "Let. Me. Go. Now!"

"You are not going anywhere," Splinter's voice suddenly spoke, pushing me back down. "Until you have calmed yourself down."

I stopped struggling as I finally realized who was holding me to the floor. When the hell did Splinter come into the room? I felt my insides burn. That big-mouthed bastard was the one still fucking standing?! Why the hell can't anything go right for me right now? I got one brother telling me I'm not worth shit to the team and might as well leave, a master who's probably ready to kill me, and two other brothers who think I've lost it.

My teeth grit so hard the muscle in my jaw felt like it was going to snap. I knew I had to slow myself down before I really regretted it. I worked to slow my breathing, and kept my glare fixed on the floor, ignoring the glares of my family. No one moved, or spoke or anything for a minute. Mike shifted his eyes from me to Splinter, his eye ridges drawing together in question. Splinter gave him a look before turning his glare back to me. He pulled my attention back with a clearing of his throat.

"Can you act with some civility?" Splinter asked sternly.

I glared at his stern look, but my eyes flickered downward in surrender. No way in hell I was going to win this battle. I nodded and felt him get off my shell. He pulled me up from the floor and released my arm. I stepped back, rubbing my chin and glaring at the floor.

"Raphael, go to the study," he said after a moment. "I will be there momentarily."

I paused, frowning. 'Go to the study'? Not like there was anything left to keep the others from seeing…what, I couldn't let the others know about how pissed I was about my cocksucker-of-a-reject brother? I couldn't say in front of the others about how Leo said I wasn't worth shit to the team? I saw him turning to Leo, and my fists clenched angrily. Dammit, I was losing the argument, and I hadn't spoken a word yet!

"Oh, I see how this is going to go now," I spoke out angrily, turning slowly to face them. "You're going to hear his story first, and then say mine's bullshit, aren't—"

"Raphael." He looked at me fiercely. My voice died in my throat as I saw the sai in his hands. I gave them all a sideways look, my insides roiling like snakes. Mike and Don looked at me warily, Leo had this 'pokerfaced' expression, but even then I could see the alarm in his eyes.

"Go to the study, My Son. We are going to talk," Splinter said with a warning tone. "Do not disregard my warning."

I lowered my eyes, and left the room, cursing silently.

I slammed the study door behind me, and I stalked around the room. How could this happen TWICE in one fucking day? I tried to think of what I was going to say after this. Damn, I was pissed. How the hell that bastard managed to get me into trouble so many times in one goddamn day was beyond me. This question's one I've asked ever since we were old enough to get into trouble in the first place. Somehow he always managed to avoid a good deal of the disciplines that Splinter handed out over the ages. From lectures and chores to restrictions and old-fashioned ass-whippings, he somehow always managed to just barely get out of them. Well, not always, it just took practice.

I paced the study floor when I heard the door open. I glanced down, taking a breath. Here we go… Splinter closed the door behind him, the sai still in one hand. He gave me a calm look and held it up. I held back a second before approaching him to take it.

"You left your sai," he said quietly. I remembered a conversation similar to this from long ago, back when we'd had our first battle.

"I got it back now, didn't I," I replied coolly. I took the sai and put it back into my belt as smoothly as I could, despite the tremors I could feel in my hands.

"Except I am not letting this go," He then said sternly. I froze, looking up—he remembered too. Splinter motioned to one of the chairs at his desk, but I declined. He said nothing, and I leaned against the edge of the worn oak desk. Over the years of 'trial by error', I had learned that if a conversation took place at the desk, you were in real deep shit. Splinter remained standing, and folded his arms, in silent thought. He sighed quietly, and then looked at me with practiced patience.

"Raphael, I want to know what happened," he started, "that was so formidable that it resulted in you attacking your brother like that." I shook my head. The interrogation had begun.

"That's what he told you, huh," I replied as carefully as I could without sounding too disrespectful. I wasn't going to fuck up the conversation like I had before. If Splinter was gonna listen to me, I had to keep a grip on things, or else it would be the usual shouting match.

"Leonardo told me that the two of you were talking in the kitchen, and that something was said and you lunged at him with your weapon," Splinter replied sternly, "am I incorrect in my interpretation of what your brother told me?"

"He was the one to start any of the attacking," I said, frowning.

"What did he do?" Splinter asked.

"He was trying to piss me off by saying stuff," I said. Splinter just shook his head.

"If you knew he was instigating you," he started, "you should have ignored him or come to me."

"Yeah, that Really would have helped," I remarked, snorting. "Leave it to you to make any argument one-sided around here."

"No argument has one side, My son," Splinter replied, shaking his head. "I am your father. I am not only here when you are in trouble. I want to help you when something is troubling you, but how can I if you do not speak to me?"

I stepped away from the desk, folding my arms to just get them out of the way. I reminded myself to be careful of what I said. I didn't want to lose this battle, but I could feel myself getting angrier.

"Whatever," I muttered, "No matter what happens, I get the shitty end of the stick. It's always been like this."

"Everything is not always set against you, Raphael. Nothing is made to be only good for one of any of you. Everything is done depending on what is necessary for the situation," Splinter said, "I do not try to denigrate any of you, nor do I try to show favoritism." He gradually walked towards me until we faced each other again.

I felt my insides turn as I listened to him speak. He might not have tried, but it was there. There were so many things that weren't intentional, but still happened—the mutation, the solitary confinement of having to live underground, the prejudicial bullshit from the humans—all of it. That was something I couldn't control. Having to deal with a brother who tells me that I might as well not even be part of the damn clan…no. No, I wasn't going to take anymore of his crap. Things were gonna change once and for all…

"I am so sick and tired of the bullshit I have to go through with him," I started, " If you would just--"

"Raphael, you are overreacting," He replied. "Leonardo had no right in saying what he did and I will speak to him about it. But…he Is your brother… does what he did still give you the right to _attack_ him?"

"A _Brother_ doesn't call you worthless," I rounded angrily, "a _brother_ doesn't say that you don't belong in your own ho--"

"A _brother_ also does not attack those his own family," Splinter replied, sounding like he was losing some of his own patience, "He _is_ your brother, _no matter what had been said_."

I turned around, looking straight into my father's eyes, feeling hurt, frustrated, angry and betrayed all at once. He was going to hear the truth from me about my brother, whether he wanted to or not.

"If I had HALF the allowances that you give Leo…" I growled, almost to my surprise. "I don't care if he's leader or not, open your eyes and look at what your doing! If you weren't so goddamned BIASED with us, you'd see what the hell I'm taking about! Instead, you just listen to him and whatever HE says."

I walked up to Splinter, almost muzzle to muzzle.

"He is _not_ my brother! He's been no more my brother than…than you've been my father."

There, I'd said it. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, but it needed to be said. I felt a weight being lifted from me, only to get a larger one dumped on after a minute of silence. I struggled to keep eye contact with him, but I could feel myself losing the battle. Damn this anger…

His hand suddenly cupped my chin, lifting my face to look at him. I couldn't meet his eyes anymore. All the things I felt fought for control, but only emptiness as I looked at his face.

"I am not your biological father, that is true. Yet I have always seen you as my sons, just as you see me as your father. A family is not only of persons who are blood-related, but also of individuals who care about each other," he said, "unfortunately, it now seems that family is something you no longer find as necessary."

"I do care, Splinter, " My words felt useless to my own ears, so they probably sounded like shit to his, but I was gonna try to save whatever shreds were left of the conversation.

"Then you have much work," Splinter then said in a low but fierce tone, " In learning to watch what you say."

I blinked.** I** had to watch what **I** said?! I pulled myself back from his hold, glaring at him. After all the shit I just told him, he was going to correct ME about what I said? I felt the anger return; the bullshit was starting again, and I was without options.

"I can't believe this," I said angrily, stabbing a finger towards him. "After all the shit that's happened, what YOUR SON said to me… you tell ME that I have a problem with watching what I say?!"

"Dammit, Splinter… maybe Leo was right. Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I shouldn't be in a place where my own brothers don't want anything to do with me, where my own father doesn't give a shit about me."

I looked at him in sheer hatred and disgust.

"Maybe that's what you want. You just want your happy lil group in a place where you can control them and do whatever the fuck you wish. Well I'm not gonna be like that. I'm not gonna stay here and just let my own family walk all over me. I'm not gonna stay in a place where I'm stuck as the scapegoat for everyone!"

I took a heavy breath after my rant, too hurt and too angry to care about the outcome of my words. Enough was enough…

Splinter watched me in a way that made me almost nervous. He was pissed. My insides suddenly dropped at what he said next…

"You are not 'stuck' anywhere, Raphael," He said angrily, " My son OR NOT, if you truly feel that way about us, then you would certainly not miss living here and being 'a scapegoat'…you are dismissed. Go now…"

I hesitated, looking at him for the briefest of moments. Then I left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five 

I sat in the Bus Station, watching a bunch of humans herding from bus to bus like sheep. Taxis were fighting to get downtown like fish in a river. Lights flicker all along the street, and the sound of distant music came up from the bowels of the local bars and watering holes.

I glanced down at my life possessions—two full duffel bags, the clothes on my back, and Fifty Bucks. I'd been sitting here for about two hours waiting for my ride to arrive. I still couldn't believe I walked this far in such a short amount of time, even for me. Figures the past two weeks had been in the upper 50s, so of course it would drop to 20 while I'm stuck out here.

You're probably asking, "Hey, stupid, why didn't you take your bike?" Well, I'll tell you. I had gone to take my Bike with me when I left, but just as I'd gone into the garage, that was when I had remembered that both the spark plug AND the wire were both fried from our most recent excursion. I hadn't had the chance to go with Casey and get the parts I needed to repair it, but after what happened earlier…I doubt any of that'll happen now.

I almost cried when I had to leave it behind. Yeah, yeah, I hear you snickering. Ha ha, fuck you, go to hell. I said ALMOST. No way I was going to, not in front of them. I couldn't let my weakness show. After everything that had happened, I couldn't let them think that I would just crawl back like some scared lil kid. I couldn't let them see how much it bothered me…

I looked down, unzipping the patched up military duffel and pulled out a small case. I touched the black velvet, remembering the day April gave it to me for my 16th Birthday. It wasn't much, but I had thought that it was one of the greatest gifts I had ever been given—well, almost. The true treasure was inside.

A group of humans passed by, and I quickly concealed myself and my belongings. I hid the box with my arms and pulled my collars up higher, the fedora lower over my eyes. They disappeared around the corner, probably heading to the bar on the next block. I turned my attentions back to the box on my lap. With a small click noise, it slowly opened, revealing two Sais. But not just ordinary sai…they shone like polished mirrors, intricate designs etched into the prongs, and long strips of red and black silk done up in some fancy design over the handle, long tassels folded carefully along side the weapons.

Heh, great, I'm starting to sound like Mikey…These were no ordinary weapons. They were used for special ceremonies, important occasions, and that kinda stuff. Splinter had given each of us a special ceremonial weapon like that. Don't know where the hell he got them, heck for all we know, he did the designs all himself. Heh, he'd been telling us that he'd been meditating during all those times before he'd presented them to us. Right on the days that we'd mastered the weapons we use now…what a day that was.

I tried looking back on that day, to remember when we were all happy. Sensei was so proud of all of us. But I cant. The only faces that pass through my head come from earlier this morning. Anger, resentment, hurt…

I shake my head, trying to erase the look of anger from Master Splinter. I couldn't help but look back on everything after our big blowout. Couldn't think about anything else, anyways…

I stayed in my room, the music off, my ears still ringing heavily. I paced in my room for a good couple hours. I stayed away from the others; I didn't want to hear any shit from them. Didn't want to meet up with Splinter again. I looked back over Splinter's words and tried to understand.

"Did he? How can I really be sure," I asked myself, "I mean…did he mean it?" I rose from my bed, pacing again, restlessly. Did I piss him off to the point of disowning me?

After looking at my options, I decided that it would be best for the whole clan, family, whatever…if I just left. If I stayed here, me and Leo would eventually kill each other, the rifts would grow wider between the others and me. I pulled the two duffel bags out from under my bed and began filling them up with all the stuff I'd need. Clothes, weapons, music, anything I could manage to stuff into the two bags. Not like I had that much anyway.

That was when a knock came from my door. I growled low, wondering who the hell was bugging me now. Unless he wanted to have to use a spatula to scrape up the remains of his carcass, it had better not be Leo. Wouldn't be Donnie…sure as hell hoped it wasn't Splinter.

"Raph?" The person finally said. I sighed, shaking my head. It was Mike. No doubt he found out about what happened between Splinter and me, and came to see if I was willing to talk to him. Sneaky little bugger always manages to get me to talk to him somehow, but not this time. No amount of talking could fix this now, and no doubt Mike would try to talk me out of leaving now.

"Go away, Mike…" I told him, kneeling to look under my bed for some important items. Hey, gotta have something to do in your free time…

"Raph, come on Bro, talk to me..?" He pleaded. I grabbed some more items out from hiding, and stuffed them into one of the duffel bags.

"Mike, leave me the hell alone," I called over my shoulder. He started knocking again.

"Raph, please talk to me." The doorknob rattled.

"I'm busy." Don't get angry, I tell myself.

"Bro, please, open the door." More rattling…

"Go away, Mike." Zip up the bag, I thought to myself, don't let it get to you.

"I'm not leaving until you let me in." He continued knocking. I gritted my teeth. I kept telling myself to ignore him. He would go away eventually.

He banged more. I closed my eyes.

"Raph, open up Bro, come on…"

"Goddammit…"

I growled, walking over to the door and reached for the handle. I was ready to wrench it open and bitch the puke out, but I stopped myself. If there was one thing I knew about Mike, it was never to let him see me upset, or else I would never get rid of him. I paused, taking a breath before opening the door. I frowned at him, looking as calm as I could.

"What the fuck do ya want?"

He blinked in surprise. I forced my heart to slow down; the walls to stay erect and steady. Look cool, I thought to myself, you'll be fine.

"You okay Raph?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be?" I turned away, going back to the two bags of my belongings. He stepped into the room after me, and that's when I heard him gasp. Here we go…

"Raph…why are you taking all your stuff down… why the heck are you packing?!"

"Its nothing…" I replied as I zipped up a bag.

"Like hell, Raph, what's going on?" He walked up to me, putting a hand onto my shoulder. I shrugged him off, walking over to the bureau in the corner. I only needed one last thing. He would get the picture in a minute.

"What happened between you and Splinter?"

I opened the top drawer, looking at the velvet box, and couldn't stop the sigh that escaped. I carefully lifted the box out of the drawer, holding it with both hands, and slowly turned back to where my bags and brother were located.

"I gotta go."

"What?"

I put the box in the other bag as easily as I could, biting the inside of my cheek as I saw the look on his face. "I can't stay here anymore."

"But…Raph…why?"

"I can't explain," I said, putting my 'shitkickers' on, tying them tight. I stood up, grabbing my coat, and looked at him evenly, "Things just aren't working out here anymore."

"What? But, Raph, I—what happen...you're leaving? But…" Mike stammered as I lifted up my bags. I stepped into the hall and glanced back one last time at what had been mine. I walked down the hall and made it to the final doorway that would lead me out, when Mike finally made a coherent sentence.

"Why are you leaving us?!" He said loudly. I winced as I saw the faces of the others appear in the hallway. I forced a calm breath as I looked away from Splinter and the others, returning my gaze to Mike, only to feel my insides roil. This was going to hurt him a lot. I reached a blind hand to the door, opening it, gazing one last time at what had been my home for almost twenty years.

The final words slipped from my lips as I disappeared into the sewers:

"Ask the man you call Father…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six 

Three Days Later…

I'm sure you're wondering what's been going on back with the others. Since this is in my view and I don't have a clue, we're not gonna bother with 'em. Like I could give a shit anyway…

Well, it's been a few days since I first left the lair. I think I've traveled through every borough here in New York. Which isn't easy when you're walking around with two duffel bags strapped on your back. You get to feeling more like a pack mule than a person, but what the hell… least you don't gotta worry about some asshole nagging you over something stupid.

Insert Description of the boroughs here. If you live here, ya don't need it. If ya don't, use yer imagination or go look it up yerself. 

So yeah, I had been trekking around the city, watching the normal buzz of the nightlife and shit. Can't do jack without worrying about someone can see your face in daylight. I knew I couldn't just wander. I had to find some place for shelter. The nights were getting colder and I was gonna freeze my ass off if I had to sleep in another substation. I figured that since I knew Manhattan like the back of my hand, I wasn't gonna leave it. Yet, anyway.

I wandered around the different stores and office buildings trying to find something decent. It was getting to the evening here, and things were changing over from Business City to Party Central. Prime time for busting gangs, if you asked me. The hookers started looking for warm beds, muggers looked for tourists who didn't know their way around town, and the homeless started looking for shelter. That was where I fit in…kinda.

I glanced past my coat collar down the Avenue. Ahead I could see the isolated chunk of wilderness located in the middle of Manhattan. You hear all that talk about Central Park being this glorious natural wonder and an asset to the City or some other stupid bullshit. I sure as hell knew that Central Park was not the best place for anyone to be late at night. The number of bums, muggers, junkies and rapists that took up residence could probably outnumber the cops who were trying to get them off the streets.

I decided to venture into the park. There were always gangs and muggers to bust, and I could probably get some of their revenue from their earlier jobs. Yeah, it wasn't honest, I knew. Not honorable, whatever. Honor and survival are two different things. When one gets in the way of the other, you have to go with what's most important. And right then, honor just wasn't important. I kept both duffel bags strapped on my shoulders, making me look either like a mail carrier on double duty, or some woman who needed to lay off the Twinkies. Either way, someone was gonna be dead if they even tried to come at me. I made my way to one of the ponds that sat in the park. I felt the case with the ceremonial sai bump against my leg from inside the bag as I walked. I sighed, wondering if I'd really done the right thing. I quickly shook the thought off. Now wasn't the time to do any self-doubting shit. I had to get away from things. From them…and that was why I came here.

Picture it, in the middle of so much noise, pollution and shit…one place of faint serenity. A place to go where you don't feel confined or constantly reminded of who or what you are. You could—well, I guess you could say, act naturally. There's a pond that's apart from the others, surrounded with bushes and trees. It's called… well, The Pond. Yeh, I thought it was creative too. I had always liked it there because you could just hide away from the people and do what you wanted.

I walked over to the pond and look around. A guy's sleeping on a park bench not too far off. Victim of the economy, war vet who'd lost it long ago, or someone escaping the law? As long as he stayed away from me I could have cared less. I sat down on a bench and leaned back a bit.

I'd been here I don't know how many times, starting back when we were just a bunch of kids. Splinter first brought us here when we were five. Any younger was dangerous, and any older woulda just sucked. Well, I'm sure you can imagine the four of us seeing the surface world for the first time: this green sort of haven that belonged only to us at that moment. Too bad it turned into such a shithole. But over the years, we learned how to climb trees, use camouflage, stealth and even improved our swimming skills. Yeah, swimming skills. Hey, the pond was a lot cleaner back then, and compared to where we came from, it was damn near immaculate. And I hadn't heard of any ninja succeeding in life with only the doggie paddle…

I sighed, shaking my head. Great, if they didn't harass me, their memories did. I raised a hand to muffle a yawn as I got to my feet. I had barely gotten any sleep since I had left. Made it kinda hard when you had to be worried about getting mugged or seen by the police. They had started picking up whatever solicitors they could find a few weeks ago. It was getting colder and they probably weren't in the mood to pry frozen bodies off the benches and street corners all over town. I knew I sure wouldn't envy that job.

I made my way out of the park, hearing the wind picking up through the trees. I had to find shelter fast. I couldn't afford to get cold. Most of you know why, and those who don't can go look it up and then get back to reading this. For those that have a clue, lets keep this train moving…

I slowly made my way out of the park. Only six at night and it was already pitch black out. Gotta love winter. I knew where the local laundry and dry cleaning places were. There was always heating vents and shit there. That and behind the take out places were usually where usually about three-quarters the homeless population was. The local shelters didn't do shit around here. It all became survival; who kept their patch of ground near the heating ducts, fended off the better trashcans, and kept awake enough while stealing someone else's stuff to avoid getting their shit taken. That was why I hadn't slept worth shit the past couple days—damn humans steal anything they can get their hands on.

I head down West 59th St. until I come to 6th Avenue. The sidewalks were almost packed with people shopping, talking and doing whatever. The Christmas season in New York was anything but easy going. All the windows of all the stores were stocked full of all sorts of clothes, electronic stuff and other things. It disgusted me seeing how people buy so much crap, damn credit cards. They got so much stuff and then a month or so later it would end up in the trash. I guessed that was why we always looked forward to this time of year when we were growing up… other's people's greed became our good fortune.

Fuckin A, I'm getting sentimental and shit. I hate that. Anyway, I headed down the street, trying not to get knocked over by all the shoppers, not to mention trying to avoid getting plowed over when crossing the street. Its funny, when we visited the farmhouse back last year, Northampton got nailed with three feet of snow, and still had schools and junk open. But if we got more than a foot of snow down here, the whole city shut down.

I eventually made it to the corner of West 58th Street. I blinked as I saw the lights suddenly turn off. They were closed, which meant the heat vents would be useless.

"Shit, what now?"

I knew there was another Laundromat down on 7th Avenue, but it was too cold to walk all the way over. My hands were already starting to go numb. Dammit, I did NOT want to be stuck down in the subway again. I glanced up and down the sidewalks. I basically had two choices: spend another sleepless night in the substation and risk getting mugged or seen by the others, or I could walk a few blocks to another Laundromat and risk freezing my ass off and getting picked up by the fuzz.

Fuck it. I walked down the street feeling the cold creep in on me. Crappy Goodwill gloves. I glanced up past the brim of my hat, watching the wind wipe sky clean. You never could see the stars with all the lights. Not like I had ever wondered about stars, living here—I never even knew they existed, living underground. Donnie was always looking at his science books, reading about other plants and stars and shit. I said it wasn't possible. Yeh, I was wrong, so what? You go grow up under a couple dozen meters of cement and try to believe in that crap. We only knew rain as the stuff that dripped down from the pipes until we were 5, and snow was alien until we were almost teenagers. The closest thing we had was the frost that formed on the water pipes during the winter. And believe me, it wasn't something that we enjoyed having around. The sewers got brutal during the winter months. You either had ice or flooding. Definitely no winter wonderland as far as we were concerned.

It took a while, but I finally made it to the place. I walked past, glancing through the big glass windows. The lights were still on, and the place was full of customers and other wanderers. I glanced around before rounding the corner behind the store.

I felt a small blow of warm air on my face as I stepped behind the building. I narrowed my eyes a lil, trying to get used to the darkness of the alley. Already, I could see 5 or so people huddling around the exhaust vent of the business. Deeper into the alley, a group of people sat around a metal barrel that glowed with the fire of newspapers, cardboard and whatever else they could find. One man sat in an abandoned doorway, some glanced up with a warning look to stay away, while others didn't even lift their eyes from the ground. They probably thought that I was going to force them away from their precious heating vent.

I continued into the alley, glancing up at the fire escape attached to the side of the buildings. Just in case the cops decided to stop by… I managed to find a spot that was away from the humans and sat down on a piece of cardboard box, still soggy from the snow. My shoulders ached as I finally took the bags off my shoulders. I leaned back against the bricks, feeling the warmth radiate from the wall. I didn't care if my ass got numb from the cold, being able to sit after walking non-stop for 12 or so hours was the best feeling I'd had all week.

I glanced down at my bags, opening one of them. I looked at the other homeless bums before pulling out the black case. I drew my knees up, resting the case in my lap as I opened it. I touched one blade lightly, the stinging cold of the steel making me pull my hand back. I hadn't realized how cold it was until I really touched it. The water droplets from my breath formed a fog that clouded around the objects in my hand. Me and my big mouth. I wiped it clean, but only made the smudging and clouding worse.

I couldn't help but wonder. Were they looking for me? Did Splinter think that he made a mistake, and then try to send the others to find me? Or did they just forget about me and carry on with their meager lives? I was sure one of them took over my room by now, doing whatever with it. Don was probably using it for storage or something computer-junk related. Maybe Mike was using it as another room for my—well, his bike. All I could say was that Leo had better not gone in there and messed with my shit.

What was I saying? It wasn't my room anymore. Those weren't my things. They were not my brothers… they were not my family anymore. Splinter made the decision that he didn't want me there anymore. I was no longer his student, his son… I was nothing to him. I looked at the sai again, vaguely wondering why I had even took them with me. I was a Ronin (masterless warrior, right?), and so my teacher's things were of little worth to me. Well, maybe I'd keep them for a while longer.

"Hide those, if you know what's best."

I looked up, finding myself looking into the dark grey eyes of a young woman, years of smoking, drinking and misery making her look a lot older. She was wearing a torn hoodie sweatshirt under a thick wool coat. Ripped blue sneakers poked out from under her faded jeans. I frowned at her intrusion, quickly putting the sai back into the black case before stuffing it into my bag.

"What the hell you talkin' bout?" I replied. Well, what I thought I had said soft was loud enough that the other bums heard me. The smell of the barrel fire and an old cigarette butt lingered around us from nearby. She cleared her throat before looking up at me.

"Bradley's gonna take those from you, first chance they get."

"Bradley? Who the hell's that?" I questioned skeptically. In other cases, I probably would have ignored her, but that was before I found myself curled up on a soggy cardboard box, hugging a brick wall. She turned a little, and I could hear her body pop, crack and snap as she moved. Sounded like what I felt at the moment.

"Bradley's group… they're a gang of high-schoolers with nothing better to do than to bother us and take whatever valuables we find. They're a nasty bunch," she whispered, "You better hide your things like most of us do."

I blink at her and set my bags down beside me. A bunch of high-schoolers beating up on a bunch of people who are having enough problems as it was. That wasn't going to continue, if I had anything to do with it. I look at her and glance at the others.

"If this group of kids stops by, I'll deal with them personally."

"Plain crazy, you are," One older dark-skinned guy said from the barrel fire. Others murmured softly under the crackles of the fire. I glanced over, only then seeing that he was on crutches, half of one leg completely gone.

"Gotta call back-up… but Sergeant said the helicopters wont make it until sunrise," Some old man mumbled from behind his whiskey bottle. He sat in a pair of trashed army fatigues, military decorations long since faded and fallen off.

"They could hurt you…us…they're always armed with something. You could get injured... Or worse," a small Asian girl piped up from beside a nearby Dumpster. She had the dark circles under her eyes of a marijuana addict, with traction marks on her arm the size of the San Andreas. Who the hell were all these fucked up people?

"Look, if you wanna have them keep coming and taking yer shit, fine… I'm not letting them have my stuff." The two women blinked at me, and I heard a chuckle somewhere from the barrel fire.

Just then a group of shadows entered the alleyway. I looked up to see the homeless folks shrink back, hiding behind their scarves and hats. About four or five teenaged boys walked into the alley, the tallest (and probably the leader) wielding an iron pipe, another boy sloppily hid a switch-blade in one hand, and the smallest kid kept his arm close to his body. Firearm, my guess. Kid didn't look much older than 15, barely able to keep up with the taller teens, much less able to use a gun. I would have to keep an eye on him. One greasy-haired kid gave me a dirty look before walking over. He tapped his metal pipe in one hand as he approached, trying to stare me down. I'd dealt with Leo trying to pull that shit enough times that it didn't phase me in the least. I got to my feet, keeping myself between the group and the bag. If they wanted to tussle, that was fine by me.

"Well, well, what have we here… a newcomer to the alleys," The tallest kid said with a sneer, "I wonder what shithole you crawled out from."

I narrow my eyes at him, clenching a fist. This kid had all the nice shit of a good family: name brand clothes, shoes, gooped up hair-do, and probably too much money and free time. Taking the time to go out and harass the homeless folks. Kick them while they're down. If he only knew what would happen if he tried any bullshit on me.

"Probably better than whatever rock you crawled out from," I replied. The alley residents took notice and watched, my skin feeling their gazes as I faced their tormenter.

"You got a mouth on you… I don't like that." He squinted at me, gripping his pipe tightly.

"You ain't got a brain, but I don't give a fuck," I replied with a smug grin. He swung at me with the pipe, and I jump to the side, grabbing it in one hand and kicking him in the gut. He grunted and stepped back, clutching his stomach. I kept the pipe in one hand, twirling it a lil. The alley folks looked up at me, I swear almost in surprise. Didn't they know how to defend themselves from a punch of punks? I guess I would have to do that.

"You're a dead fucker," the kid groaned, standing upright after a couple minutes. I looked him over before snorting. He glared at me, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket. His friends quickly copied him and I found myself facing off four kids with switchblades. The one with the gun stayed back, probably too scared to get into it.

"Ooh, knives, I'm shaking in my fuckin boots," I taunted, squinting at the leader kid. He snarled and stepped up.

"I'll teach you, you homeless piece of shit!" He yelled, and came at me with the knife. I used the pipe to disarm him, hearing the bones in his hand crack. He howled in pain, cradling his injured hand. I took the chance to pin him back against the wall, grabbing his neck with one hand. He looked at me like I was going to kill him, but I took the frozen pipe and set it against his open mouth. With his screaming to get free, his tongue attached to the pipe and froze. Wasn't that just the worst thing…? I smirked as he dangled from his frozen tongue, whimpering and trying to say that he was just kidding.

"Alright you lil punk. Listen and listen fucking good." I pulled up on the pipe just enough to make him jump, clutching his hand. The alley people weren't making a sound, but I could almost hear them cheering.

"Yeth yeth!" I could see his eyes water. Yup, I had his attention all right. A chuckle came from near the barrel fire. I could see the ladies bouncing in excitement from their little cardboard box corners.

"Don't you ever pull some shit like this with me around, or I'll make sure it's not your tongue that gets frozen to metal." He nodded quickly, and I gripped the pipe with both hands, yanking it from his tongue. I heard a loud tear and saw a layer of frozen skin on the pipe. He gave a girly scream, tongue sticking from his mouth as he and his lil group fled the alley.

They didn't get very far. Suddenly there was three police cruisers blocking the way, getting ready for a little action. The alley people started running for it, while the gang tried to run past the cruisers.

"Shit!" I muttered as I ran and jumped up, grabbing the fire escape of the Laundromat. Travelling the roof would be too easy to get trapped on. I scaled the fire escape, until I got above the fence and jumped over. That would hold them off. I jumped down, landing on my feet when bright lights suddenly blinded me.

"FREEZE!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven 

I suddenly heard the cocking of a gun. I couldn't see it, but I'd heard it enough times to know what it was. My coat was still zipped, so they couldn't see what I look like. Damn good thing. A figure stepped in front of the cruiser, and I tried to get my vision into the shadow of the person. It had to be a woman cop. I could just see her shape in the headlights of the car. Puffy coat, long legs and big ol' boots that almost reached her knees. Her hair must've been pulled back in a ponytail, with winglets of hair shooting off at the sides. Her breath came off in big clouds along with the heat from the cruiser.

"Put your hands in the air!"

I put my hands up slightly, looking her over. She was shaking, nervous trigger finger no doubt. Hell if I was gonna get gunned down by a friggen rookie. I glanced around, looking for any signs of a partner or backup. Whenever there was one, you could usually count on there being more.

"Don't you move, I'll shoot, I really will!" Yeah, she sounded real authoritative. More like a coked-up squirrel.

"Don't worry bout me, hotlips," My eyes darted around, searching for the gleam of another cop that could have been concealed. I took a small step to the side, so I could get a chance to see her face a little. I smirked, seeing her look of disgust.

"Shut up and put your hands on your head." She still hadn't radioed her backup, and I knew there weren't any other cops here with us. I had to keep her busy until I could figure out a way outta there.

"Ooh, you get to frisk me," I replied, inching to the side again. "Hell knows I'd love to do a cavity search on you."

"I oughta cuff you to the dumpster with the rest of the trash." She spat.

"Oh, you're kinky too."

"Fuck you, asshole."

I kept searching for a way out, when the sound of static and a tinny voice came from her direction. She lifted one hand up to turn on her radio. The other hand was shaking around the gun so badly she looked ready to drop the damn thing. Perfect…

I ducked and charged her. I was close enough. Hell, I would be able to disarm her and knock her on her ass before she'd even be able to aim her gun.

But before I could… she surprised me.

It all went slow, like in the movies. She raised the gun, and I skidded to a stop in front of her. She was gonna end up shooting me point blank in the face. I felt the blood rushing through my temples as I watched her pull the trigger. There was the sound of a click and then—

Nothing.

I had to blink a few times, as did she. It must have jammed, it had to have. The thing was loaded, there should have been a shot—but there wasn't. We both raised our gazes from the gun. She looked right into my eyes, and I knew she saw what I really was. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the gun.

"What the fuck—"

I didn't let her finish her question. I gave her a solid hit to the temple, knocking her out. I picked her body up out of the snow and set her on the cruiser. I glimpsed around before running across the street. It all took the same time it did to shoot the gun, but it felt so much faster.

I ducked into another alley, knowing there was a sewer grate nearby. Voices and the dull thud of footsteps faded out as I opened the grate and climbed down. I had to let my eyes get accustomed to the darkness as I hid from view. As I caught my breath, I could feel warmth radiating off of some nearby pipes. I squinted and finally made out the faint outline on the wall. Steam radiated from the pipes where snow from above had floated down onto it. Puddles eventually refroze into ice once they were far enough from the source of heat.

I leaned against the warm pipes, rubbing my eyes. I had to wonder what that cop was telling the rest of her squad. Some giant green alien in a trenchcoat was making dirty comments about her before punching her out and running off. I chuckled when I thought of the street punk that had his tongue frozen to the iron pipe. I'm sure his buddies will think he's real tough now.

"Least those folks don't have to worry about someone trying to grab their st—"

I felt a lump form in my throat when I realized that I'd left all of my things back in the alley. The money, clothes—the sai. I walked down the sewer tunnel back to alley, my mind racing at breakneck speed. If I lost those sai...

I picked up speed, until I was running full speed to the manhole I knew to be there.

----------------------------------------------------

The smell of exhaust and trash was strong enough to give me a headache. I'd only lifted the manhole cover an inch or two, but the smell and the noise of the cars was overwhelming. I had to find my bags and get the hell outta the area.

I jumped from the ladder and went down the tunnel until I saw another grate above me. I climbed the ladder and looked for signs of people before pushing up on the grate. The snow and the cold made the thing freeze tight.

"Dammit."

I tried pounding it with my fist, but that didn't get me anywhere. I jumped down again and looked around for something to pry the thing open. I had to get up and out before the cops took my bags. I saw something sticking out of a pile of junk down in the gutter. I reached down and pulled a broken pipe from the debris. The weight seemed alright, so I spun around and climbed back up the ladder.

I chipped at the ice around the edges of the grate, while trying to listen out for people nearby. The cops would have kept the area clear, so unless an officer happened to see a giant sewer monster rising from the abyss... I'd be fine. I reached up and hit the edge of the grate with the heel of my palm. It shifted a lil. I listened for approaching footsteps or voices.

Nothing. I leaned my head down and used my shoulders to push the grate up and out of the hole. I pushed the grate aside before pulling myself up into the alley. I replaced the grate before hurrying to the shadows.

I reached up, grabbing the fire escape and pulled myself up. As I climbed, I tried to look over at the other alley where the cops pulled in. The last of the police cruisers were leaving the area, leaving the place dark again. I scaled along the rooftops before making my way back down to the alley.

The place was empty. Either the homeless folks had fled, or the police scooped them up for the night. I walked down the alley, passing the barrel-fire that had dropped to a smolder. The cardboard boxes were strewn everywhere, some stomped to pieces from the mad scramble. I ran to where I had stashed my bag, only to see the cardboard boxes I'd sat near demolished. I rooted through the boxes, tossing them aside.

They were gone. Everything I owned had been taken from me. I dropped to my knees, leaning my head down and slammed my fist onto the snowy ground.

"The clothes…the money.. The sai. DAMMIT!"

I lifted my head, sitting back on my knees. I had to get it back, all of it. No matter what it took, I was getting my things back. I got to my feet, brushing my knees off. How the hell was I going to find it? I paced a lil, rubbing my eyes and thought hard. The closest place I knew they would have gone was the police station down on East 5th street. The other places were damn near all the way to Chinatown.

I paused. Why was I freaking out? It was stuff from the past. Weapons from a teacher who didn't exist anymore. Books from a home that didn't want me. Clothes from family who didn't care about me. But even so, I couldn't stand the idea of some stranger of having the sai. Those were special, important to me. I sat on a crate, looking at my options. I could wait until morning and then go to the station… OR I could sneak in tonight during the shift change and get my stuff back.

I high-tailed it to Second Avenue. With the traffic being as bad as it was, I wouldn't be surprised to get to the police station before the cops did. That would at least give me a chance to stake the place out a lil. That was the last place I wanted to get caught in. Where I went after I got my stuff was another question. As long as no one noticed me, I would be fine. Weaving through the people and the traffic, I made the quick decision to hit the roofs once I made it to the avenue. I would move faster and be unseen by the authorities.

My heart went double-time as I rounded the corner and headed southwest. I ducked into an alley and made my way to the roof. This was going to be dangerous with the ice and snow on the rooftops, but I didn't see any better alternative. I would just have to be careful. Fortunately I had been smart enough to keep my climbing claws in my coat pocket. I didn't want to risk damaging anything in my bags.

I slipped the claws over my gloves, making sure they were snug before setting myself for the first jump. It was a good thing the buildings were close to each other. I judged the distance and my running ground. One slip and I would have been dead. I walked back to the end of the building, digging my feet into the snow before shooting forward.

I landed awkwardly, slipping off the edge of the next roof. Good thing I had my claws on. I grabbed onto the edge, pulling myself up to safety. I sat back against the ledge, catching my breath.

"Just two dozen more to go…"

It didn't take me long to get to the police station, once I got the hang of jumping onto frozen ledges without falling on my face. I could see the Police Department across the avenue. I made my way down a fire escape, jumping down to a dumpster before touching down on the ground. I fixed my scarf and hood before heading across the street. I looked up at the building, taking a breath. It was time to see just what my ninja skills could do for me. I opened the door and stepped inside…


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight 

I made my way up the steps of the Police Station. Huge stone columns spaced themselves across the top landing, casting long dark shadows against the facing wall. I pulled my collar up, adjusting my scarf over my beak and opened the door.

I was greeted by a warm blast of air as I stepped inside. The entrance opened into a large waiting area with benches and chairs lined up and down the room, along with two vending machines in a corner. It was crowded with people clutching backpacks, shopping bags and the usual whining kid. Mostly people looking for directions or waiting for the bus inside. I closed the door behind me and worked around the crowd. The cops that busted the alley fight had to be here. It was the closest precinct, not to mention almost time for the shift change.

There were two cops at a desk near the set of doors that lead to the inside offices and such. One was dealing with an old drunk while the other was trying to calm some pissed off woman who was yelling at him in Spanish.

"¿What is Matter with you Peoples? ¡Deseo mi coche vuelto a mí!" The little woman snapped.

"Please Senora, Necesitamos su identificación," the cop replied as calmly as he could.

She continued shouting and gesturing with her arms, switching to her native tongue and going about a hundred miles a minute. The cop looked worried the woman would hit him with her purse.

"I'm sorry, Senora," the cop replied again, "necesitamos ver su identificación."

I could just barely understand some of it. You get to learn different languages living in a city this big. But the lady was keeping them distracted, which was what I needed. I crept closer to the door, trying to keep a low profile. Most of the people were focused the other direction, but it only took one to notice. I turned the knob and hoped it was unlocked. With the shift change, people would be coming through soon.

Click.

I kept to the shadows as I made my way into a hall. I tried to keep focus, but all that would come to mind was 'crazy fuckin bastard'. What the hell was I doing, risking myself for a couple outfits, magazines and a couple hunks of metal? If I'd been smart, I would have said fuck it, and left the junk to rot. It wasn't anything I was gonna need—I wasn't gonna die if I didn't have them. I was risking getting caught in the police station. I was risking getting exposed. I was one giant risk…

I kicked the thoughts out of my head—I had work to do. I crept down the narrow corridor, keeping as low as possible. There was the door to the inner offices, and a window for the security and clocking in and out. I had to figure a way inside—the security was probably kept the door locked. I looked around the corridor for something that would make the security open that door, without attracting other attention.

Sidling up to the security window, I listened to find out how many voices there were. I made out only a couple voices, and they were faint, which meant they weren't close to the windows to see. The security doors had also blocked most of the commotion from the main room. I ducked below the window and crept up to the door. Why didn't I have my lock picks? I glanced over my shoulder again before putting my hand on the doorknob.

I was surprised when I found the door unlocked, but anything that got me closer to my stuff was good. I held my breath, pressing my ear to the door. Most of the noises from the main lobby were blocked, and I couldn't hear any footsteps or voices on the inside. I exhaled, squeezing through. The door closed with a soft click, and then the air was quiet.

Soft light streaked across the floor through blinds inside the rooms, which gave me a better chance to get through this gauntlet. I ducked low, keeping away from the long bands of light. The quiet taps of keystrokes and murmurs mingled in the hallway. The whirring of ceiling fans and the heating systems also created a low buzz. Ahead of me was a wide spiral staircase, stairs on each side leading downward, one wide set leading up to a landing that split into another spiral.

I frowned, chewing on my lip. Which way did I need to go? It wasn't like I just strolled through this place everyday. Usually Donnie was the one to know the schematics of a building, or Leo would have us stake the place out before jumping in.

The door I had first come in from suddenly opened, and I ducked back behind a giant potted plant. Two women in uniform and parkas, probably the incoming shift, entered the Hallway. They were busy talking, so they probably wouldn't notice me.

"So I said to the state trooper, 'You can kiss my ass…'"

I blinked, spinning around. Two men in suits were coming down the stairs—detectives? CRAP. There was no other way for me to go except the duty room. But that had people in there too—I might as well have thrown myself into a lion's den… Or a laboratory. The hollow clop of polished shoes approached in the dim light of the hallway, and I found myself trapped. Again. Dammit…

I had no other choice. I sidled up to the door of the duty room and glanced in. A few individuals were scattered through the room, none really close to the door. The footsteps were coming closer, my heartbeat pulsing in tandem. The two women were still standing at the door, red light from the exit sign bathing their caps and shoulders. Guns in their holsters. Guns in the office. Guns everywhere…

I held my breath and tumbled along the floor, making my way to one desk. The light was dim, except for the few lamps that were spread around. I hid underneath the desk, eyes and ears locked onto movements and sounds.

Footsteps and the occasional squeak of rolling chairs began to surround me as the people entered from the hallway. The center of the room was filled with desks and tables, computers scattered here and there. On the far side of the room, a wall of tall metal file cabinets cut the room in two, a faint glow coming from the area behind them. Most of the lights were off, save the few on the desks and one at the head of the room near a small podium and whiteboard. Some people sat at desks, others hovered together around a table, discussing whatever.

I cursed silently for being so stupid. I could just hear all the reprimands and lectures and "What were you thinking?" comments from all sides. A younger me would never have gotten into this kind of mess. Younger me would have held back a little, wait for precious words from Daddy or Asshole Ani (Big Brother). But younger me wouldn't know how to get out of this, though. Years' experience with this kinda thing makes you more decisive, intuitive I guess…

Ugh, I'm rambling again…

There had to be a good five or six people between the door and me. The shift change would hopefully change that. If I could get to the dark area near the file cabinets, I'd be able to hide better. But rooms like this could fill up fast, if all of Donnie's stupid CSI shows proved right.

I inched my way under the desks, watching polished shoes circle the room. Two figures made their way to the door, bags and coats in hand. They stepped out, only to meet up with the two female cops in the hallway. I muttered under my breath as they came into the room. Figured, things wouldn't go the way I wanted it to. I shrank back under a desk, watching the shoes circle the area again. Circle…

I couldn't help but remember a trip we did to the aquarium one night. Splinter snuck us in for a 'field trip' when we were 11. I stood at the big tank for nearly an hour, watching a fish hide in the coral while being stalked by sharks. I'd always thought the sharks were cool after that. I even hummed the Jaws theme at bathtime, just to mess with Mike. Even made up Sewer Sharks – That never went over well. I just never thought I'd experience the fish's side of the story…

I suddenly snagged my sleeve on a computer line. I barely managed to catch the computer mouse on the end of the wire. I froze, holding my breath. The mouse stood balanced on my fingertips, threatening to crash to the floor. My lips moved pleadingly as I shifted my hand, repositioning the mouse before slowly sliding it onto the desk. _Come on, you can do it, don't fall on me…_

I dropped back to the floor, exhaling into the carpet beneath me. No footsteps approached, no voices took notice. I closed my eyes briefly, and then refocused my attention getting past the gnarled twisted vines of phone and computer cords. The distance was only a few feet, but it felt like miles.

I made it to the far side and hid in the section of file cabinets. It had one light on a table, surrounded by the tall cabinets. I made sure no one was in view before switching the light off. From my place, I could see the officers at the desks and the door to the hallway.

I still hadn't heard anything about nearby brawls or seen any familiar faces.

I stopped to look at my options. On the wall behind me, There was a window propped open for fresh air. At my knee, an airduct. I could sneak back to the hallway and risk the stairwells. I could sneak out the window and use the fire escape. I could use the air vents in the building to move around. No matter what choice, there was a lot of shit I was gonna have to deal with. Plus I didn't even know if my bag Was here. I was depending on a lot of 'What Ifs' at the moment.

"Well, look who's comin' in late…"

"Sorry, had a brawl to deal with down on 58th Street. Some homeless folk fighting with some punk kids."

I blinked, craning my neck to see who the cops were. That was where I'd just came from. I fought the urge to jump up and demand the guy to return my bag.

"Sounds like fun."

"Like hell. All there was left was a kid with a bloody tongue and a bag of junk."

I leaned my head back, looking at the ceiling. It was here. All I had to do now was track it down and get the hell outta here. Their evidence room couldn't be that hard to find. I just had to go at the right time…

------------------------------------------

I watched the traffic move in and out of the room until there was the only one cop sitting at a desk. I didn't know how long I had been there – it felt like hours. My legs cramped from being crouched for so long. I moved my shoulders, feeling them grind. I took another headcount of the room. Several had come and gone, some dropping off reports and others researching different cases.

I turned my attention onto one of the two officers that'd been at the fight. The other had left the room a short while earlier. One other cop was in the room, working on the phone. After a moment, he hung up the phone and got to his feet.

"Hey, I'm getting some coffee upstairs. Want anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

Once he was gone, my target was alone. Time to act fast. I sidled up to a file cabinet and snapped my fingers once. Twice. The cop glanced up from his desk.

"Psst."

He sat up, looking around the room. As far as he knew, he was alone. I snapped my fingers again. Once, twice…

"What the hell," I heard him mutter. He rose to his feet, glancing at the hallway.

"Psst", I hissed. (I can just imagine the die-hard ninja fans out there having a heart attack over this...)

I watched him rest a hand on his holster as he approached the file cabinets. Bad choice, buddy…

"If this is a joke..."

I held my breath as he stepped into the darkness. His eyes were wide, sweeping erratically back and forth. If he had night vision, he would have seen me just inches beside him. He looked over his other shoulder, his breath dropping to a shallow hiss.

I grabbed him, slipping back into the darkness. One hand covered his mouth as the other grabbed the gun, jabbing into his neck. The hum of the computers on the other side ensured his yelp was unheard.

"Just the person I wanted," I hissed. "I have a few questions that need answers. Any sounds from you that aren't my answers, and this"—I jabbed the gun into his jugular—"might accidentally go off. Clear?"

I could feel his pulse through the shirt he wore as he nodded quickly. I pulled him towards the furthest corner from the door, keeping low to the floor as possible.

"Where would one find the bag from the 58th Street fight?"

"Bag? I—"he choked, "It's in the Evidence room by no-"

"Where is this room?" I tightened my hold around his neck, and he gave a sick gurgle. I glanced over my shoulder quickly, in case someone came into the room. "I need answers Now."

"The basement," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy squeak. "Please don't kill me."

I didn't listen to his plea, putting him in a sleeper hold until he lay like a limp ragdoll. I set the gun aside before picking the guy's body up, stuffing him under the table and unplugging the lamp. The gun caused me to pause for a moment – he wouldn't need it. It took only a second to stuff it into my pocket before making my way to the hallway.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine 

I couldn't remember a worse time trying to sneak through an 'enemy' territory for a reconnaissance mission. Ninjas are dangerous, but they don't go walking around with a Glock stuffed in their waistband. I was damn fortunate that they were accustomed to the hallway lights being off, or I would have had to scale the building outside. No thanks…

The hallway filled and emptied with incoming and outgoing officers, detectives, even a sheriff or two. I sat motionless behind the same saving potted plant as before, heartbeat keeping in time with the nearby clock. It was here that I'd noticed a lull between rushes, every 15 minutes or so. The first few rushes were huge, and I damn near had to hide in the closet at first. After a while fewer and fewer people came through, until a lone cop or two clopped down the hallway.

I reached into my pocket, fingering the edge of a small tanto that I'd always kept on my self since I'd gotten it as a kid. I knew there was a chance I would get caught or shot trying to reclaim my bag. There was a chance I might be put in a 'kill or be killed' situation. Some unlucky cop with a wife and kids could be in the wrong place at the wrong time…

Usually you just think of cops as some conceited bastards that like to hear themselves talk and flash their guns around. To me, they're just there to take the credit – I honestly didn't give a shit. But stuck in that hallway for damn near an hour, listening to them yappin' about their kids having snow days off, or needing to get home and shovel the wife's car out – It just gets to you. Pissed off, depressed, I dunno. It wasn't important, not now.

The shift transition came to an end, most officers donning thick winter parkas before heading out to deal with the insanity. I crept through the shadows and managed to get into the elevator without anyone noticing a giant overdressed hunchback walking amongst them.

I hit the button for the basement floor before pulling myself up through the roof hatch to the elevator shaft. The shaft was dark, faint red worklights shone up a few floors above. I counted the dings as I descended, feeling a knot of anticipation forming in my stomach. If I could get my ass out of this, I could survive anything…

The elevator jerked and bounced once it reached the bottom floor. I began to lower a leg into the cart, when the door suddenly opened and two guys in lab coats stepped in. I shrank back, cussing silently as they hit a button to go up. That was when I saw a small lever marked 'Emergency brake' just to my left. I nearly threw my weight against the switch, and the elevator jerked to a full stop. The two geeky-looking fellas in the bottom yelped in surprise before jabbing as many buttons as they could on the elevator's console.

I pulled the tanto from my pocket, shaking my head. These two were talking so much, I probably could have climbed down without them noticing me. I started grabbing wires, cutting and pulling them out of order. The elevator went dark, quiet and dead in a matter of seconds. Needless to say, the two techies never saw me coming.

I was now stuck in a powerless and broken elevator with two techies that were knocked out via head conking a la the Three Stooges. You couldn't make this kind of stuff up, honestly.

I rooted through their pockets in the darkness, hoping for some key cards, key chains, anything. I succeeded in finding some ID cards, a couple of keys and a half-melted Snickers bar. Hell, a candy bar would be worth keeping at this rate. I found a pistol in one guy's underarm holster. Eh, Just in case. I stuffed the gun in my waistband before moving to the doors. I stepped over the two bodies and pressed my ear to the door. I didn't hear anything, but it wouldn't take long for someone to find out the elevator was trashed. I pried the elevator console open with my knife, slashing through the pile of lights and wires.

The doors opened with a faint hiss before quiet ensued again. The hallway was lit by a few bands of fluorescent lights on either wall, about a foot from the floor. I could have done the sneaky thing and pry the lights open, delicately dislodging the light bulbs enough to turn them off. But I'm not that patient, nor did I have time to fuck around. I knew I didn't have a lot of time left. I pulled the gun from my waist, gripping the barrel before smashing the lights with the handle.

The hallway was now dark, save for the dim red light from the sign pointing to the elevator. I looked at the gun and figured I wouldn't need it anymore. I pulled the cartridge out and dumped its contents on the floor. Down the hall a ways was a door marked 'boiler room'. I threw the gun inside and kept going.

I made my way down the hallway before I finally came to a door marked 'Evidence' in large block letters. The doorknob was a mix of regular key lock and high tech card-reading gizmo. I slid the card through the reader: a small green light flashed and I heard a soft click. I eased the door open, peeking inside. Another door – well, more like a gate. Chain link fencing separated the door from a high counter. Another higher chain fence separated the receiving area from the main storage area. The larger area was full of high shelves and countless file cabinets that nearly touched the ventilation ducts overhead.

A cool draft blew past my face as I carefully closed the door behind me. The chainlink door didn't have a key slider on it, but a regular key lock. This wasn't a problem… I pulled out the ring of keys and started going through each one. Of course, the key I NEED is the last one out of a stack of a dozen or so keys. The gate opened without even a squeak, and I exhaled in relief, stepping inside.

I heard both door locks click as I stepped away. At least no one else could sneak in if I get stuck. Like that'll happen…

The air was dry, controlled for evidence preservation. The chainlink on the door was cold, even through my gloves. As I stepped forward, I could see over the counter and into the storage area. To my right there was a solid partition that reached up towards the open air. On the other side of the counter, I could see the tables covered with zip-loc bags, bright yellow ID tags stapled to each one. The piles of bags were neatly lined up on the counters, stretching around the room and into some walk-in space that I couldn't see into. I climbed over the counter and ducked down. There were piles of zip-loc bags everywhere.

"Shit," I muttered, "This is not good".

I started on the biggest bags on the floor: clothes, knives, cell phones, spray paint cans, crackpipes. No duffel. As I moved closer to the door of the storage area, the faintest rumble of voices came from further within. I slid up to the fencing, straining to listen.

"So this is everything?"

"Yep, Two bats and the duffel," a gruff voice replied. 'Damn thing weighs a ton. Dunno what the hell's in it."

Ding Ding Ding! Finally… I kept tabs on their location as I crept through the gate. The storage area was huge with dozens of shelves full of filing boxes. I kept my hand on the tanto in my belt as I ducked into an aisle.

"You said it was the only item in the alley?"

"Yeah, none of the bums in the alley claimed it. Said another figure owned."

I peered around the corner. There were two men standing there with their backs to me. One was a heavy-set older man with salt and pepper hair. The word 'Sheriff' stretched across the back of his jacket with big yellow letters. The other man was thinner, short with dark hair and a jacket. A snarl of rubber gloves stuck out of his back pocket. Probably CSI or something…

"Probably the same bastard that attacked Neely the next road over."

"Maybe it's a drug runner," The CSI guy said. He pulled two gloves from his back pocket and snapped them on.

They were both hunched over the bag, totally unaware that I was getting close enough to touch the hem of their jackets. I held my breath, reaching one hand toward the sheriff's gun holster, my other holding the tanto in a defensive position. I heard the zipper on my bag get undone.

"A bunch of magazines?" The sheriff suddenly stood upright. My hand bumped the smooth black metal of his revolver. I hitched a breath; the sheriff suddenly turned.

"What the-"

I ripped the gun from the sheriff's holster. I wrapped my arm around him, holding the knife to his throat before he could finish speaking. The tech spun around and put his hands up when he saw my gun in his face.

"Don't move."

The sheriff slowly put his hands up and took a deep breath. The tech was frozen, eyes huge and his face turned white.

"You're out of your damn mind, Kid…"

"Spare me the bullshit," I said. I pressed the knife to his throat. He hissed softly and stood still.

"Look, what do you want?" He said. I kept the gun aimed at him, watching sweat bead on his forehead.

"The Bag. Now," I said. I pulled the sheriff closer and nodded towards my duffel. The tech's eyes flashed a few times between the sheriff and me.

"Don't even think of trying anything," I said, cocking the gun. I was still trying to get used to the weight in my hand.

"Okay, okay," the Tech said, ducking his head. He slowly turned, zipping the bag shut and lifting it by the strap. I motioned him to come closer with the gun barrel. He slowly set the bag on the floor and slid it towards me. I waited for him to step back, and then nudged the sheriff hard.

"Pick it up," I said. He glanced over his shoulder before kneeling down. I kept the knife pressed to his neck as he grabbed the strap.

I caught him looking back at me again. Its not like he could really see what I looked like. I had a scarf over my face and a hood on. The only thing they could see was a three-fingered glove holding the gun. But I didn't wanna give him a chance of seeing anything. I knocked him upside the head with the pistol grip. He fell to his hands and knees, cursing. I kept the knifepoint on the back of his neck, gun still pointed at the now pale-faced tech.

"It'll be best for all of us if you don't do that again."

He touched the side of his head gingerly. A thin line of blood drew itself down from his temple. His upper lip curled into a snarl.

"Sonuvabitch", he said, "There's no way in hell you're gonna get out of here in one piece."

"You got enough problems to worry about yourself," I said. "Now, where is –"

The loud ring of the phone echoed loudly from the front desk, making the three of us jump. The tech took a step towards the door, and I glared at him.

"Don't answer that…"

"You're gonna have to."

I looked down at the sheriff, knife still pointed at his neck. He wiped the blood off his forehead as he sat back on his heels.

"If you don't answer, they're gonna come down here in droves."

Shit. I looked from the Sheriff to the tech for a moment, thinking. Whether we answered or not, we were going to end up surrounded. The best we could do was answer and convince upstairs that nothing was happening… The phone continued to ring loudly. I stuffed the tanto back into my belt and pulled my bag up over one shoulder.

"Fine, let's move", I said. I reached down, taking the sheriff by the arm and pulling him to his feet. "But if either of you flip out and tell them what's going on, you're gonna regret it."

I kept a grip on the Sheriff's collar, still holding the gun towards the tech as we made our way to the phone. I stopped just inside the area behind the counter, keeping the entry to the storage area to my back. I motioned to the tech to get the phone. He swallowed hard, picking up the receiver.

"Hello?"

My gaze was locked onto his. I strained to hear the other side of the conversation, but all I could hear was a low buzz. I could see the tech's hand trembling as he spoke with whoever was on.

"Any problems? No, everything is fine…"

The Sheriff was still next to me, nursing the cut on his head. He glanced at me briefly before shaking his head in Disgust. I glared at him before turning back to the tech. the conversation had degraded from short sentences to just yes or no answers. The muscles in my leg started to twitch – this was taking too long. Then he glanced at me, eyes darting up and down. He was giving them my description. I stepped forward, raising the gun again.

"Get off right now," I growled. The tech's eyes got huge.

"Don't shoot," he blurted, raising his hands (and phone) in the air. The phone buzzed loudly, and I knew I only had a few minutes until I was surrounded-

The gun went off, kicking back nearly out of my hand. The tech gave a startled cry as he fell to the phone. The phone landed somewhere in the room.

"Dammit!" Hollered the sheriff. He lunched at me, struggling to get the gun. I kicked him hard enough to make him double over and through him into the storage area, shutting the gate.

A loud bang came from the front door – backup was trying to bust their way in. I stuffed the gun in my belt, adjusted my bag and scaled up the chainlink fencing.

"Get down here, you bastard," The sheriff said, staggering and coughing. The Sheriff tried to climb up after me, shaking the fencing. I didn't hear anything from the tech by the counter and half-wondered if I'd actually shot him.

The banging on the door got louder as I made it to the top of the fencing. Just above me, the ventilation shaft loomed overhead. There was a flimsy looking grate on one end, easy enough to pull off. The door below me suddenly crashed open, cops cramming themselves into the space behind the gate.

"Stop right there!" One shouted. The cocks of a dozen pistols clicked loudly.

"Sorry, places to go..." I said, teetering on the top of the fencing. I launched off the fence and reached for the grate.

Time slowed as I traveled mid-air, the thought of missing the grate and landing about twenty feet below forcing its way to the surface. My fingers caught the lip of the grate, and then I was suddenly falling –

"Fuck.."

I suddenly was jerked back and forth; my arms feeling yanked out of their sockets as I hung in mid-air. I looked up – the grate was attached to the vent by a hinge on the bottom edge.

"Dammit, he's gonna fall!" I heard from below me. I couldn't see below me, but I'm sure they were still trying to come up after me. Someone took a warning shot at me, the bullet bouncing off the side of the vent. I took a deep breath before reaching upward, pulling myself into the ventilation shaft.

"Come down now or else!" More bullets pinged and dinked against the side of the vent. One grazed my leg, nearly causing me to lose grip.

"Fuckin sonuvabitch..." I roared as I pulled my legs inside the shaft. It stung real bad, like a red-hot poker touching my leg. I ground my teeth as I crawled through the maze of tunnels, listening for the sounds of an exhaust fan that would lead me to the outside. I could hear alarms going off through the vents as I scrambled through the darkness.

I sure got myself into one hell of a clusterfuck this time. It was gonna be damn luck if I didn't get caught at this rate. I was making random turns, trying to remember where in the building I had been in. I thought I was going in circles, when the squeaky grind of a fan played its song of freedom and escape.

I came up as close as I could, peering through the whirling fans and to the outside. It opened to an avenue, letting store signs and traffic lights shine through. The vent had another grate on it to keep trash and rats out, but I could see a few screws holding the whole thing in. I had to struggle in the cramped space, but I managed to grab the tanto in the back of my belt and started unscrewing the whole contraption off.

A group of legs suddenly ran by, and I pulled back. No doubt I'd have to make a run for it as soon as I removed the grate. I knew there was a subway entrance nearby, the question was how many cops and cars were in-between. The pain in my leg only made things harder to concentrate. I felt blood seeping down my leg as I managed to get the last screw undone.

I worked the grate loose, peering outside to see anyone standing nearby. Finally, I pushed the grate out and crawled out onto the snow. I got to my feet, only to fall against the side of the building in pain. It took a few deep breaths before I started gimping as fast as I could across the street.

I narrowly missed a few speeding taxis, not without a curse or two, as I made my way through the snow. I could see the entrance to the subways just ahead of me.

"Police! Stop where you are!" A voice shouted from nearby. I turned, seeing two armed officers coming towards me. A few panicked shoppers jumped and lost their bags as I forced my way past the crowds to the tunnel stairs. I clutched my duffel close, squeezing through the mass of people and getting into a subway car.

"Don't let that train go!" I heard from behind. I worked my way up through to the front of the train, towards the part hidden further into the subway tunnel. I came to the door of the car and stepped through, closing the door behind me. I jumped onto the ladder and climbed onto the roof of the car.

I watched for a few minutes, when two or three cops came through the partition between the cars. It was a few more minutes before they came back through, looking pissed-off and dejected. I took a deep breath and laid my head down as the train finally started to move…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten 

I can't remember how long I'd stayed up there. All I felt was cold, real cold. The train had come to a stop, and I could hear the comm system giving departure times. I peered over the edge into one of the cars, watching people file out. I lowered myself down and entered the now empty train car. I took a moment to change my vest, putting on an oversized sweatshirt. I pulled the hood up, stuffed the vest into my duffel and headed towards the exit.

I didn't notice any cops lurking as I weaved through the crowd to the stairwell. As I reached the surface, I looked around to get my bearings straight. I knew immediately that I wasn't in Midtown anymore. Or even Manhattan. The landscape – and the smell- was different. It was then that I noticed a kiosk that had in big gaudy letters, 'Welcome to the Bronx'.

"The Bronx? Terrific…"

I hadn't planned on staying on the train that long. Now I had to find a place for the night. My leg was still hurting from the bullet wound, but the cold had actually frozen the blood on my leg, making the pain bearable. It helped, but wasn't good long term.

It started snowing again as I headed along Tremont Avenue. Most of the buildings I passed were closed for the night, while others were empty. I wasn't sure what time it was. It had to be late for how dead the street was. My legs felt heavier as the wind picked up intensity.

Damn cold bloodedness. All I wanted now was a place to sleep and something warm to throw down my throat. I could look back and lose count how many times one of us had been overtaken by the cold, especially when we were younger…

I remember one time when Don and me snuck out of the lair to see snow – we were only five or six at the time. Donnie had claimed that Splinter had shown him something mind-blowing, apparently. I didn't believe his story about glitter falling out of the sky, though...

Well, long story short, we'd actually found snow from a storm grate – nastiest looking shit you'd see in the road, but it was neat for us. Anyways, we ended up getting lost and so cold that we ended up going into hibernation mode. Splinter had managed to track us down, and spent the next four hours trying to wake us up. I remember waking up, and he had both of us tucked inside his top, absorbing warmth from his fur. Had a hell of a cold afterwards… probably why he didn't punish us for running off.

Christ, I don't know why I even keep bringing this old shit up…

I pulled my scarf down from my face and looked up. Just ahead, a dim lamp lit a carved wooden sign that hung over the sidewalk. It read 'Jake's Sports Bar and Tavern'.

"Least someone's open", I muttered. I fixed my scarf before opening the door.

As soon as I stepped in, I was blasted by warm air and the smell of Italian food. Dimmed green lamps overhead lit the polished woodwork that stretched throughout the entire tavern. Every wall was covered with different memorabilia, mostly baseball. The doorway I stepped through was framed by latticework trellises, separating the door from the bar on the right. There was a stage facing a bunch of tables, and on the far side of the room was an arcade, a poolroom and a darker closed off area of booths.

There were a few patrons at the bar, talking and throwing balled-up napkins at the football game on TV. Most were wearing winter clothes and boots, except for one guy who was walking around in a loud Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts.

"Freaks", I said, shaking my head. I made my way to the darker corner of the place, setting my bag on a booth table. Time to check on the leg wound...

I grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser in front of me before rolling up the now holey pant leg. As I warmed up, the leg started to tingle, millions of pinpricks as the blood began to thaw and drip down my leg.

"Shit shit shit," I muttered. Blood flowed and skinned burned. I grabbed more napkins and pressed them to my leg, half-tempted to go outside and freeze it again.

How I'd managed to get my sorry ass out of that Police station without more holes in me, who knows. Seeing the tech fall like he did, I couldn't be sure if I'd actually shot him or the phone. The whole thing happened so fast. Maybe I did shoot him…

The sound of approaching footsteps caused me to look over my shoulder. The curvaceous silhouette of a woman with a tray was backlit by the lights and signs at the bar. I kept working on my leg, confident that she couldn't see me in the darkness.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Her voice was smooth, throaty; it caught me a little off-guard.

"Uh…coffee, black," I muttered. I glanced at her as she walked away. Thick wavy hair spilled over her shoulders. Black skirt, just barely reaching the top of her knee-high boots. Hmm…

Another sting of pain jolted me out of my rubber-necking. I opened my duffel and took out one of my rattier T-shirts. Taking the knife from my pocket, I cut the shirt into strips and bandaged my leg. I secured the wrappings best I could before fixing my pantleg.

As I sat down in the booth, I felt the gun in my belt clank against the backrest. I pulled it out and set it on the table, looking at it. I felt strange having it- kinda giddy, like when a kid finds his dad's porn mags, or a sibling's diary. It was weird, like I had gotten my hands on this forbidden treasure.

Now that I had it, I had to hide the truth, like I was ashamed to admit that I'd actually gotten it. Kinda exhilarated, kinda jumpy... the weight for one was different. The way you feel using it is different too. With the sai, you're presenting yourself for combat. The gun… it's almost cowardly, being able to use it without showing where you are. But still, it gets the job done...

I heard footsteps approaching and stuffed the pistol into my bag. The waitress came to the table and set a cup of coffee and a dish of creamers down, along with a basket of couple warm rolls.

"Can I get you any appetizers to start?" She said, pulling a notepad from her apron. I could feel my stomach wrapping around my backbone, but I knew I barely had enough for the coffee. I pulled the mug closer, keeping my face out of sight.

"No thanks..." I mumbled, " I'll look at the menu."

"I'll give you a few minutes," she said, scribbling something before heading back out to the main area.

I closed my eyes, letting the steam swirl up around my face. It smelled strong enough to make paint peel and hair curl, if I had any. I started putting creamers into it, the color barely changing after five. I gave up after eight and took a mouthful. It looked like sludge and tasted like burnt toast, but it felt good going down...

After two or three buttered rolls with shaky cheese, I felt good enough to take a nap. I tucked my arms beneath me and pulled my hood over my face. I closed my eyes- just a few minutes, that's all I needed.

"AW, Come On! What the hell kinda game is THIS?!"

My eyes snapped open. Some fucktard was hollering at the TV. I closed my eyes and did my best to ignore the ranting.

"Damn Packers… they couldn't catch their own shit if they tried."

"Shut up Man, there's still one quarter left."

"Highest paid team in football, and they lose to the damn Cardinals. Buncha overpaid steroid addicts…"

"Okay, no more drinks for you tonight if you start that shit up again…"

I exhaled, closing my eyes. Damn drunks. I took another mouthful of coffee and got to my feet. I pulled the scarf up to my beak, heading towards the rest room. Least I could take a piss in peace…

A short hallway by the kitchen door led to two separate restrooms. I locked the door behind me and shivered suddenly. Damn room was as cold as outside, but quiet.

I emerged from a stall a few minutes later, a gallon lighter and feeling hungry again. I paused to adjust my scarf when I heard a loud crash. I moved down the hall to the kitchen doorway and looked inside.

The waitress who'd been serving me was backed up to a counter, shattered glass all over the floor. The ranting drunk from earlier was now hanging all over her, groping her shirt.

"Clyde, No", she said, trying to turn away from his beer-logged kisses.

"You know you like it…" He said, pawing at her.

Without a second thought, I stepped into the kitchen. Two strides and one punch sent 'Clyde' face-first onto the floor. The waitress looked half-stunned, covering herself up with her arms.

"Roxanne, what'd you—"

I looked over my shoulder at the new voice. The guy wearing the loud Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts was standing in the doorway, holding a stack of receipts and looking very puzzled.

"What the Hell's going on here?" He demanded. Definitely had to be the boss man, my guess.

"It's nothing," The waitress I now knew as Roxanne mumbled. "Clyde's just… being Clyde."

"Lady looked like she needed some assistance", I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

The boss guy gave me a quick glance before turning back to Clyde the drunk, who was just now getting to his feet.

"Dammit Clyde, this is the LAST straw.."

"Why the fuck me, Jake," Clyde said, barely able to stand upright. He rubbed his jaw and glared at me. "That bastard just assaulted ME."

"And you just assaulted one of my Employees," Bossman a.k.a. Jake replied, "Now get the hell outta my bar."

"Bullshit," Clyde slurred, "I am a paying customer and a United States Citizen!"

"You're an asshole too," I said, stepping between Jake and Clyde. "Do as the man says."

Did I piss him off? Oh yeah… Were we gonna end up fighting? I kinda hoped. He staggered towards me, adrenaline (and Cap'n Morgan) making him bright red in the face. Jake quickly moved to Roxanne's side and kept her out of harm's way.

"I'll fuckin' kick your ass, you bastard…" Clyde roared, throwing his entire body into a right hook. I quickly sidestepped, and he went flying out into the hallway, head crashing into the wall and leaving a dent. I went over, reached down and pulled him to his feet by his greasy hippie fro.

Meanwhile, the fellow patrons watching the football game were busy rooting for their player who was trying to make a touchdown. The quarterback, unable to get a clear throw, clawed his way up the line and leapt over the opposing team's guards.

"Go, Go!" A few hollered, pounding on the counter.

Imagine their surprise when not only did their guy get to the end field, but they also nearly got knocked over by one drunk Clyde crashing into their barstools.

"Goal!" Hollered the commentators on the TV. Oh, the irony…

"Okay, no more of this…" A halting hand from Jake caught my arm. "Clyde, just go."

Patrons stared in surprise as Clyde got to his feet and stumbled towards the door. A few claps from the bar made me smirk victoriously. So much for keeping to myself. I stuffed my hands into my pockets again as Jake turned to me.

"Thank you," he sighed, "though it's probably made things worse."

"I didn't like what I was seeing," I said, shrugging. I glanced back at the kitchen, where Roxanne was cleaning up the glass. "Didn't need to be treating her like that."

"Agreed," he said. He put one hand out. "M'name's Jake, by the way."

"Name's Raphael," I said, hesitating a moment before shaking hands. I caught his eyebrows go up a lil when he saw a three-fingered glove.

"Well, good thing you did," He said, "Had a feeling you weren't from around here. Manhattan?"

"Yeah, I'm just passing through tonight", I replied. I walked over to the dark corner and retrieved my bag. "Had to warm up a lil."

"You're walking in this weather?" Jake asked, " You want something before you head out? We got some specials.."

"I don't have a lot for money," I replied, handing him a few bucks. "This is for the coffee and the rolls."

He looked at me a moment. Then he shook his head and gave me the money back.

"Keep it. It's the least I can do," he said. "Come on, meal's on me."

I shook my head. If there was one thing I never really liked, was sympathy handouts. I hated the 'poor me' bullcrap that people did in order to get stuff without working for it. If anything, I preferred to take care of myself. But that's always been a given…

"You don't have to do that," I said, ignoring the hollow feeling in my gut. The rolls didn't last long.

"I insist," he said. He gave an unrelenting look, and I paused for a moment. The weather was getting worse outside. Any time I could have indoors would ward off any oncoming frostbite for at least a little while. I gave in and nodded.

"Thank you," I replied.

"Eh, fugghedaboudit," Jake grinned, his full Manchu looking like the outline of a big clown smile. He made his way around the bar, checking with the other customers if they needed anything.

I caught a glance at Roxanne coming out of the kitchen. She dumped a dustpan into the garbage and looked up. We exchanged glances before she disappeared into the kitchen again. I grabbed a barstool and set my bag down at my feet. Jake slid a cup of coffee in front of me and set down a menu.

"I've got some soup an' Chowdah on the heat," he replied.

"I ain't picky," I said with a shrug. I took to again drowning my coffee with creamers. Jake disappeared in the back for a moment before bringing me a big bowl. I blinked; it was big enough to feed two people, maybe three.

"Eat up, recipe's been in the family for centuries," Jake said proudly.

"It's the original batch too," Roxanne commented, stepping out from the kitchen.

"Hey, that's what makes it good," Jake replied, grinning. I eyed the soup warily. Roxanne smiled and grabbed a cloth from behind the counter. She started wiping down the counter, watching me stir the soup.

"He's kidding about the soup, it's pretty good," she said.

"Long as it doesn't kill me, I guess," I replied, now regretting having agreed to eat with others around. Moving the scarf was going to cause a problem, unless I could talk my way out of it.

"Don't eat the scampi," One patron replied, getting to his feet. Credits were showing on the TV, showing highlights from the upcoming news.

"Game over already?" Roxanne said, closing down the bar behind her.

"Yeh, damn blizzard had blown all over the field," another patron said, pulling his coat on.

"Well, be careful out there," she replied.

"You too, Hun, we'll see you tomorrow", they both replied, leaving money on the counter before heading to the door. I took the moment to pull my scarf up enough to lift the bowl to my lips. I managed to get a mouthful before Roxanne turned back to me.

"You can take the scarf off," she said, looking at me. "It's warm enough you don't need it."

"I'm comfortable like this," I replied, folding my arms on the counter. She looked down and wiped the counter some more.

"Thank you… by the way," she murmured. "Clyde's always been a problem around here."

"Welcome," I said, stirring the monster bowl of soup. "He deserved more than what he got."

"I think what you did worked for now," she said, watching my stirring hand.

I noticed the look on her face change – she noticed my gloves. I stuffed my hand under me again as Jake came out. He set down a basket of fries and a sandwich slathered in red sauce and cheese.

"Hope ya like veal", he said, wiping his hands on a towel.

"S'fine", I replied. I was starting to regret accepting the offer for the food. It hit the spot, but dammit I was so hot I was starting to cook in my clothes.

I managed to drink down the last of the soup without getting it on my scarf. Roxanne took the bowl and headed to the kitchen. I sat back and let the soup warm my insides. All I wanted to do was tear off some layers and sleep.

"So, what brings you up to the mainland?" Jake asked, offering me a coffee.

"Nothin' particular. Just traveling," I replied, waving off the coffee.

"Not very good weather for nowhere to go," he said, sitting down.

"Don't have much of a choice," I said. "Old man threw me out."

"Old man? How old Are you, if y'mind me asking..."

"Old enough," I replied. I unrolled a set of dinnerware and pulled the sandwich to me. My hunger took over precedent of trying to stay hidden. I decimated the sandwich and did my best for enjoy every bite. It'd been only a week on my own, but it was my first meal that hadn't been pulled out of a dumpster.

"Good morning, New York..."

I looked up at the TV. How long had I been in the police station? My eyes were so blurred I couldn't read the clock on the screen.

"It's around four," Jake said.

It took a moment to register before I got to my feet. I hated to get going, but there was probably an APB to look out for a three-fingered gun-toting freak running loose in the city.

"I gotta go..." I said, quickly grabbing my bag. In my rush, I knocked over the silverware and it fell on the floor.

"Shit," I muttered, leaning over.

"No, its okay, I got it," Jake said, kneeling down as well.

As we both reached down, my scarf suddenly fell off. I looked up and saw Jake staring, mouth open but unable to speak. I quickly fixed the scarf and stood up, clearing my throat. Jake stood as well.

"Sorry," he stammered, "I...I didn't.."

"Don't worry 'bout it," I muttered, picking up my bag. "It's a... genetic thing."

"Oh... wow," He said, "So it's... not like contagious or anything then."

"Right," I said. He nodded slightly, and I sighed. At least he hadn't flipped out and chased me off. Yet... I threw my bag strap over one shoulder and turned toward the door.

"You're still welcome.." Jake said. "The weather's still pretty bad out and all."

"I shouldn't keep you up," I said, looking over my shoulder.

"Not at all..."

I turned. Roxanne was back, coffee pot in hand. I couldn't tell if she'd seen me or not. She hadn't dropped the pot or fainted, so it had to be a No.

"If the lady thinks you should, then ya should," Jake smiled faintly.

I opened my mouth, but simply smirked. I turned back around and looked at Roxanne. She smiled faintly, swirling the coffeepot gently.

"I'm not usually one for handouts..." I said, " but thank you."

Jake led me up a skinny stairwell to a small storage room. One side was covered in shelves full of dried pasta and canned goods. One window lit the other side of the room, an old couch covered in flour sacks and jackets.

"Its not much, but it can be cleaned up to look good," Jake said, moving the jackets to the floor. He scratched his head and looked at me. "Will this be alright?"

"It's better than what I've had," I commented. "Thank you."

"Ey, least I could do for you havin' to deal with Clyde," Jake grinned, scratching his chin. "Maybe, we could make some sort of arrangement."

I turned, setting my bag on the couch. "Such as?"

"Well, I could use some help in the coming weeks. Between holiday parties and the Big Football games..." Jake replied, wiping off the arm of the sofa before sitting on it.

"Garbage detail?" I said, setting my bag on the couch.

"General help," He said, shrugging. " trash, dishes, stocking..."

I was surprised. Not a week out on my own, not to mention being discovered looking like I do. Getting offered a JOB? How many teenagers can say that... It was odd though.

"Wait, are you sure you want this?" I said, lowering my scarf. "I mean... you've barely known me an hour."

Jake looked at me thoughtfully. I glanced at the floor, not used to the exposure. He smiled and shrugged.

"Call it a gut feeling," he said, patting his stomach. "I got a lot to work with."

I half laughed, taking off the scarf. I held it in my hand and thought about it for a moment.

"Fair deal," I said. "When you want me to start?"

"Get settled for now," Jake said, standing. "I'll show you the ropes tonight, we open from 5 at night to 3."

"Weird hours," I said, moving the flour bags to the floor.

"Takes from 11am on to make the baked goods. I gotta go shut down the bar, but I live at the other end of this hall," he said, stepping into the hallway."There's a bathroom down a couple doors."

"Thank you. Again," I said. He closed the door behind him, and I laid my head back on the sofa. I closed my eyes for just a minute. That's what it felt like anyways..

I woke, frozen. Someone was in the room with me. I kept my eyes closed and listened. They were close – very close. There was a faint scent of perfume: lavender. I inhaled the scent lightly, opening my eyes.

Just inches away, deep brown eyes stared back widely. Roxanne gasped, jumping back.

"I'm so sorry, I- I was just checking if you needed any..." she stammered.

I didn't move, although my neck was hurting from the way I'd fallen asleep. I licked my lips, dry from the salty chowder.

"I'm fine... thank you", I said. When the hell did I get so polite all of a sudden? I sat up slow and clasped my hands. "I don't bite. I'm not dangerous.. just so you know."

She blushed and looked at the floor. "I was surprised. Jake... mentioned that you had something, but.. It wasn't what I expected."

"Please don't share it," I said. "There's some who wouldn't understand."

"I won't," she said, shaking her head. "Jake just wanted to warn me, I guess."

"Understandable," I said, standing up. She swallowed nervously, but kept her ground.

I studied her again, now that there was some light. She was slender, a full head of rich brown curls. She wasn't scrawny thin, just nice. Enough to hang onto, you could say. She had a blanket and pillow tucked in her arms. She was chewing her lip, obviously feeling guilty for gawking. Still, she didn't scream or pass out, so that was a plus.

"It's okay," I said, motioning to the blankets. "Are those for me?"

"Are what?" She looked down and blinked. "Oh yes... Jake said you might get cold in here."

She handed them to me quickly. I took them and set them on the couch, hiding a smile. She was kinda cute, despite the initial look of shock. I turned back to another studious look over. She ran a hand through her hair and turned to the door.

"I'd better get back. Jake's probably needing help counting down the registers. Nice to meet you, Mr..."

"It's Raphael", I said. She looked at me and smiled slightly.

"Raphael."

She left the room, and I collapsed onto the couch, arms behind my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the quiet, dreaming of lavender...


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: My apologies for the confusion over the last chapter. I had forgotten to post my revised chapters of the story, and my new chapter ended up as Chapter ten. My suggestion has to be that you take a quick look at the revised story, just to understand what I've been doing, maybe it'll make Chapter Ten a lil clearer... And as for This Chapter, many hugs and thanks to Splinter for helping beta this chapter for me... :) 

No Place to Call Home

Chapter Eleven 

Dim sunlight creeped through the window of the storage room, sky still grey with clouds. The sofa lay empty, unmade and unused. The water radiator clanged and hissed in one corner, several socks draped over it to dry.

I sat in one corner, cleaning the components to my pistol. I had stripped down to jeans and a t-shirt, my trench coat full of the night's looting. Well, looting as in whatever I took from the punks I beat the hell out of. Money, drugs, ammunition-- whatever guns I retrieved, I sold at the local pawn shops.

I reassembled the gun, setting it on the desk just beside the window. I moved over to my trench coat and emptied the pockets. I pulled out two packages of pot and a bunch of sandwich bags of coke. I gathered these up and made my way to the bathroom down the hall. I couldn't hear Jake snoring, so he must have been downstairs already.

I stepped into the bathroom and set the packets of drugs on the sink. I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out of those cheap plastic razors. I broke the top off and cut the bags open with the exposed blade. I dumped all the contents into the toilet and rinsed the bags in the sink. I didn't need the shit to be traced back, especially to Jake. I flushed the stuff and through out the bags, setting the razor back in the cabinet. I left the bathroom and headed down the hall.

There was a one room combination of living room and kitchenette, a couch acting as a sorta wall between the two. There was a TV in one corner, showing footage of the weather channel, turned all the way down. I entered the kitchen area and opened the fridge. Empty for the most part. But then I noticed a bag on the middle shelf, with a tag on it: For Raphael. I knew who it was from the handwriting: Roxanne. I pulled the bag out and looked inside. Chinese... thank God. You can only eat so much pasta and hot wings before you lose your appetite for it. I stuffed an egg roll in my mouth and pulled out a bucket of lo-mein.

I guess I should just explain what's been going on since I first came here. Its worth taking a look back on...

It's been what, about a month or so, I've lost track. Working at the tavern's been good, considering how I got the job. Jake's been pretty understanding, more than anyone else I've met. He's paid me under the table for helping out; garbage, dish washing, some cooking when there'd be a football game on. I usually try to avoid taking it, since he's let me live in the storage room upstairs. During work, I'm either out of sight or I'm wearing a hoodie with my face covered.

Jake understands – well, sort of. I kinda made up a story about my appearance, that it was a disease called Cheloniantitis, originating from some far off little known island along the coast of Polynesia. Sure, I know it's a load of crap... but at least he hasn't tried to throw me to a bunch of scientists yet.

The bar was quiet, we were getting ready for the dinner opening in a couple hours. We had been up since sunrise visiting the local fish market, hoarding scallops, shrimp and salmon. Sauces were simmering, steaks were marinating, and the smell of sourdough rolls filled the tavern. Me and Jake sat for a while, nursing a coffee while testing the chili and beer bread. Roxanne was out getting supplies for tonight's dessert specials.

"Good stuff Jake," I commented. I gutted my bread and scooped my chili with the crust. I slathered the insides with butter.

"Tis my job to please," Jake replied, shaking more red pepper into his bowl. There was enough that you couldn't even see what it was covering.

"Damn man, you're taste buds are dead or something," I said. "It's burning a hole in my gut as it is..."

"Can't eat the stuff without it ," Jake replied. "Then, it just tastes like army rations."

"Army rations? I pity those guys if you were the one feeding 'em", I snorted.

"Nah, I was the one stuck eating the crap," he said, putting a good handful of pepper in the bowl.

"So you were in the military?"I asked.

"Yep, ground forces in the Gulf War," He said, sitting up proudly, "Fought under 'Stormin' Norman'. Got hit in Iraqi crossfire, got me an award.."

He pointed to a framed box just above the bar. I squinted a little, until I could see the Purple Heart ribbon inside. I had to admit, I was surprised. I didn't think I was looking at a decorated war veteran.

"Damn...you don't look the type," I said, glancing at his neon blue shirt with bright green palm trees.

"Well, its not like the movies," Jake replied. "There's no Rambo types blowing up villages, and there aren't hot foreign chicks asking to get pillaged."

I snorted, testing my coffee. It still tasted nasty, but it was bearable.

"You must've seen some real crazy shit back then..." I said, finishing off my chili.

"Well, I'll just say this..." Jake replied, "Nothing surprises me anymore."

He finished the last of his lunch and stood up.

"Okay, we got a couple hours 'til the doors open," he started. "You could probably lose the hood for a while.."

I looked up at him. I'd finally gotten comfortable around Jake enough to take the scarf off in front of him. But still, I wore the hood and gloves, even though I was usually broiling inside.

"Eh, I'm used to it," I shrugged, wiping my forehead, "People kinda freak out when they see me without them on."

"I can imagine," Jake garbled around a mouth full of bread. "You've always been like that, then?"

"Since I can remember," I mumbled, pouring a half dozen creamers into my coffee. It tasted just as burnt as always. "Usually people just stay away."

"It can't be easy though," Jake replied, looking at me. I sighed a little, sipping my coffee.

"It's never easy," I said, looking at my mug. "My br--People never accept you for who you are. Just what you look like..."

"People can be cruel."

"No shit..." I said, picking at the last of my chili. "They either fear you or hate you."

"There's nothing you can do to...cover it up?"

"We've... never brothered," I shrugged. "It's something that we have to live with."

"Hmm...we? So you're not the only one, then."

I hesitated. I'd heard too many warnings about never telling humans about us. But talking to Jake, it just poured forth...

"Well, me and my brothers. We've all got this... condition. It's... a thing from where we were born. We're stuck looking like..reptiles.."

"Really..." Jake said, eyebrows going up. "I've never seen that kinda... condition before."

"It's... only known on the island we came from...somewhere in Polynesia. But we always ask that people don't talk to other people about it."

I was honestly just pulling this stuff out of my ass... but Jake seemed to believe it, amazingly.

"Understandable. And well... believe me, you're not the worst thing I've seen," Jake said, smirking.

"Yeh, right," I said, getting to my feet with my now empty bowl. "A couple drunks and the fat topless chicks at Mardi Gras..."

"HA, I wish..." Jake laughed, pouring us more coffee. "You'd be surprised the things you see when you're out of your comfort zone."

I looked at my hands for a moment as I took my dishes to the sink. Jake took them from me and set them in the basin.

"I'm just sayin'... don't worry about it. I won't tell, neither will Roxanne."

"Thanks man..." I said. "She didn't faint when she saw. I guess that's a good sign, then..."

"She's pretty good," Jake replied, smiled faintly. "She was...intrigued."

I looked up. "Intrigued? What does that mean?"

Jake merely smiled, going into the kitchen.

"You'll have to find that out on your own..."

I guess I would find out later...

So yeah, being part of the working world's been interesting. Back in the den, I opened my box of lo mein and grabbed a fork. Screw chopsticks... I flopped out on the couch and turned up the television.

"Forecasters say that the cold front coming from Canada tonight will definitely make this a very white Christmas. So do be careful if you plan to travel."

"I guess that means I'm not going anywhere..."

I looked up, mouth full of lo mein. Roxanne was standing in the doorway, a shopping bag in hand. I choked down my noodles quickly, trying not to look like a slob. My egg roll dropped down between my legs onto the couch cushion.

"You make that sound like a bad thing..." I said, moving over so she could sit. She came over and sat down beside me. She was dressed in a thick red sweater, big enough that it hung off one shoulder.

"Here, I bought you some clothes. I figured you needed some dressy clothes..."

I looked into the bag and blinked at the pile of name brand pants and sweaters.

"I'm not one for dress-up..." I said, looking at her. "But...Thank you."

"Consider it an early present," She said. "Why don't you try them on?"

"Well...I'm sure they fit. I'll wear it when I go out today."

What are you planning to do?" She asked, leaning against me. I lifted my arm and put it behind her.

"I dunno.. maybe check in on some friends," I said, shrugging. "It's been a few months now."

"You gonna go see your family?" She turned a little, leaning her head on my arm.

"I...don't think so," I said, leaning back. "It'd just ruin the holiday for them. They haven't come looking for me since I left. I'll just go midtown and see some friends..."

She laid her head on my shoulder, resting a hand on my chest plate. I watched her carefully, knowing she was still getting used to the actual feel of.. things. I leaned my head down against hers, inhaling her scent.

"You must miss them," she said, looking up at me. I glanced out the window, sighing.

"They don't miss me..."I replied. She gave me a familiar look. One that said--

"You don't mean that..." she said, "Its the holidays. How can you not do anything?"

"Eh... we're not super big on holidays," I shrugged. She took on a thoughtful look.

"Well then... why don't we have our own little Christmas,"She tucked in close to me, walking her fingertips up my chest. "After you go visit your friends. Just you... and me? We could relax here, have some eggnog..."

"What about Jake...he's gonna need he--" She cut me short with a kiss. My eye ridges flashed upward.

"I'm sure Jake won't mind you having a night off... Just as long as we get back to work for the morning," she smiled, touching my cheek lightly. "It'll be real nice.."

I smiled, putting an arm around her as we shared another kiss. Her hand started to slide down my chest again. But I didn't mind...

"I suppose... but after I go visit folks first," I said. I glanced down as she creeped closer and closer inside my leg.

"You do that, Raphael," She said. She suddenly buried her hand in my groin... and picked up the egg roll. "And when you're done... you come back... and I'll take care of the rest."

She looked at me coyly before taking a bite of the egg roll and setting it on the table. She got up and walked out of the room. I threw my head back on the backrest of the couch, grinning wickedly.

I came down the stairwell to the tavern, wearing the new outfit Roxanne had picked out for me. She did pretty good, considering she was guessing my size. The turtleneck was thick and dark grey, the cowl big enough to hide part of my face. With my scarf and hat, I'd be able to walk around freely. I had my trench coat slung in one arm, sais tucked inside. Just in case..

"Check out the sexy green guy..."

Roxanne and Jake were sitting at the bar, wrapping bundles of silverware in napkins. She got to her feet, looking me over a few times.

"I aim to please," I said, putting on my coat. She took the ends of my scarf, pulling me close. I took in her perfume as she whispered in my ear.

"See you tonight... don't forget."

"I'll be there," I said. She tied my scarf and planted a long kiss on me. We were still lip-locked as I pulled on my gloves. I could feel a growing pressure in my pants as she nearly rubbed up against me.

Jake gave a low whistle. "Don't make me throw ice water on you two."

"Sorry Jake," I replied, having come up for air. Jake chuckled, going to the counter behind him. He poured me a coffee and set it on the bar.

"Here... It's damned cold out there today. How far you headed?"

"Just to Midtown," I said. "got a couple friends to visit. I'll try to be back in time for--"

"Don't worry 'bout the time," Jake said, waving me off. "I've got plenty of help tonight. I know you got 'plans'..."

Roxanne smiled impishly, offering me my coffee. I put my fedora on and took the coffee.

"Thanks Jake," I said, heading to the door. I pulled my collar up as I stepped out into the cold. At least it wasn't snowing.

AS I headed towards the subway station, I thought about what I was exactly going to do. I figured since it was the day before Christmas Eve, It wouldn't be too hard to keep the visit short. I could already hear April giving me hell for disappearing like I did. She probably won't know the whole story anyways...

But I could at least tell her what I've been doing. Getting a job, making some money to support myself... being self sufficient. Maybe It'd impress her that I wasn't blithering for help and forgiveness. I mean, how many humans my age can say that?

I descended the stairwell into the terminal. I pulled out a ten as I came up to the counter.

"Two-way Sheridan Square," I said. The attendant, looking beyond bored, slapped a ticked down through the window, mumbling some canned 'happy holidays' line.

I glanced up and down the platform before boarding. I figured enough time had passed that the cops weren't looking for me anymore. I took a seat in the far corner off the car. It soon bloated up with shoppers, travelers, and a few screaming kids. I sat sideways in my seat, putting my leg up on the bench. The gunshot wound from invading the Police Station had healed considerably. All that was left was a long scabby gash. I'd probably end up with a scar from it, but for now it just _itched._

The Train started to move finally, and I settled in for the ride. I figured a card would be alright. I hate doing mushy shit... Just a simple 'Merry Christmas' and an update on how I've been doing. I thought about leaving a card for Mikey. He was probably the only one who really cared that I was kicked out. I'm not sure what he'd been told; I guess I would find what was said once I talked with April.

Damn I've missed her, I thought. We used to talk whenever I stopped by to get Casey for out nightly patrols. Nothing important, but – I dunno, it was just... nice. Talking to her was different from my brothers. And Casey... Jeezus, I'd be damn lucky if he didn't kick my ass for leaving. The nightly patrols then were great, beating up pickpockets and purse snatchers, sniping gangs in Central Park. Maybe I could meet up with Casey on the weekends. Going at it alone up here's been downright boring..

The train finally came to a stop, and I fell back to the end of the group as they worked their way out of the car. I tried my best to not get bunched up against the crowds, but with Christmas Eve being tomorrow, personal space was at a minimum.

As I stood there, watching people fight their way around, I was suddenly bumped from behind, and felt a hand go into my pocket. I spun around, grabbing the person by the wrist and giving a good twist. It forced what looked like a fifteen year old boy to his knees. I gave him a narrow look as he tried to pull free. I leaned over, close enough he could see my face.

"Don't even try it, Kid," I said. I flashed one of my sai at him, hanging on the inside of my coat.

The kid looked at me wide eyed, nodding so fast I could almost hear change jingling. I released his hand, watching him tumble back on the ground. He got to his feet and ran off, clutching his hand.

"New York, new York," I sighed, shaking my head. I finally wormed my way p to the streets. For only being one borough north, I felt like I'd been in another world.

I made my way down Bleecker Street. The smell of fresh pastries and baked goods poured from the bakery on the corner. My stomach growled, and I thought – Maaaybe I could put in a gift certificate. So there's something in the card I got April and Casey.

I sent inside, greeted by warm smells of cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee. My mouth watered as I pulled out my wallet. As I came up to the counter, something caught my eye. There, on a small cake stand, neatly set in paper cupcake wrappers, was fresh... warm...gooey...baklava. I laid money down on the counter, taking the gift card and carton to one of the tables outside.

I glanced at the small carton, tied with a simple string; it called me, beckoning to be eaten.

"Willpower, Raphael," I told myself, "Willpower..."

Yes, if you didn't notice by now, I have a sweet-tooth for baklava. I ain't proud to admit it, but I had a moment of weakness; and dammit, their baklava is mighty good.

I returned my attention to the card. Nothing real fancy... a winter scene, trees, snow, horse carriages, blah blah blah. I took the pen I 'borrowed' from the counter and wrote a message:

"Dear April and Casey,

I am alive and in one piece, so you know ahead of time. I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere. I know its been a while since I last contacted you. Life has really changed for me. I got a job working at a bar up north. It pays alright. My boss treats well, and even helped me get a place to live. I still roam the streets busting thieves and all, its just in a new territory.

So don't worry about me, I'm doing fine. I've even met a girl that's not scared of my appearance. Heck, she didn't even pass out... We've been together a few weeks now, and we're pretty content."

I paused, looking at what I'd written. I wanted to give more details, but what was the chance that they'd try to track me down and drag me back here? Mike would definitely try, so would April and Casey. But Leo and Splinter... well, I didn't give two shits what they thought. I finished the letter as such:

"While I can't stay, I just wanted you to know that I've been thinking about you. Have a good holiday and I'll see you again,

Raphael."

I got to my feet, stuffing everything into the envelope and putting it back in my coat. I picked up the carton, studying it for a moment. I pulled the string off, opened the box and pulled out the smaller of the two pieces. I popped it in my mouth whole and continued down the sidewalk. So much for willpower...

I eventually reached the 'Second time Around'. The antique shop was closed for the night, but the upstairs lights were on. It went to the side entrance and hit the buzzer, feeling a knot suddenly form in my gut. I half hoped this was not going to be a bad idea...

The door opened, and there was April. She looked a little stunned, like she wasn't sure who she was looking at.

"Raphael," she suddenly said, wrapping me in a hug. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Long time, no see," I said, returning the embrace.

"Come in, come in," she urged, nearly pulling me into the house. "It's so cold out there.."

I stepped into the main entryway, looking around. She'd decorated the place with big garlands and lights and candles. It definitely wasn't the cheesy cheap crap like the stuff at the bar.

"Why don't you come into the living room," she asked, " We can sit and talk..."

"I'm not staying long," I said, waving her off. "I was just making a quick visit."

"Please, Raphael, Its been so long since we last saw you," she pleaded. "We've been so worried."

"Well, don't," I said, handing her the card. "I'm doing just fine."

She took the card and touched my arm gently.

"It hasn't been the same without you here," she murmured. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Well... I got a job working for a tavern up north," I replied. "I'm able to make a little money of my own now."

"That's wonderful," she said, smiling. "I'm so proud of you.."

That just made me suddenly beam on the inside. She was Proud of me. From then, everything just started to pour forth.

"My boss's name is Jake. He's a good guy... He gave me a room up over the tavern, and I help with the restaurant and everything."

"He doesn't give you trouble about your appearance?" April asked, looking surprised.

"Well... I told him it was a genetic condition," I smirked. "A rare birth defect called Cheloniantitis from an Island somewhere in Polynesia."

"And he believed it?"

"Its worked so far," I shrugged. She chuckled, hugging me again.

"Well, it sounds like you've been doing well. But... I still wish you would come back," She said, smiling sadly. "Casey's been absolutely impossible."

"It's not up to me, anymore," I sighed, returning the hug. "And as for Casey, he--"

"An' whadda 'bout me?!" Casey was standing in the doorway, actually dressed up for the holiday.

"Well, Damn... you're actually wearing something with sleeves," I joked.

"Ha ha, very funny," He replied. He came over and we shook hands. "So where the hell have you been? It hasn't been the same around here."

"Some of us have actual jobs to do, ya know," I said.

"You? A Job? No way," Casey snorted, grinning. "You just stole those from the Salvation army.."

"Like hell... paid for these myself from my restaurant job," I said, opening my jacket proudly, "I I figured I'd stop in for a visit during the holiday..."

"Well, ya got good timing, they just showed up a lil while ago," Casey said, thumbing to the sitting room down the hall.

I blinked, looking at April. Why hadn't she told me?

"Please stay and talk, Raphael," April pleaded, chewing her lip. "They really want to talk to you."

"I..dammit, no..." I muttered, closing up my jacket. "I gotta go.."

"Aw, c'mon Raph... they've been miserable since you left," Casey said, catching my arm.

"I have to leave," I said, pulling my arm free. I turned to the door, hoping the others wouldn't find out...

"Hey April, what's--Raphael..? Raph!!"

Mikey... I closed my eyes for a moment before hurrying towards the door. I exited and jumped the stairs before hurrying down the sidewalk.

"Dammit, why didn't they tell me.." I groaned, fixing my scarf and hat.

"Raph, wait! Come back...!"

I turned the corner and ducked into a dark alley, hoping he would chicken out of coming after me. I knew he still had his fears about the dark. I paused to listen... nothing. I waited before stepping back towards the sidewalk. A figure suddenly jumped me, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Raph!" Mike cried. He was hugging me as tightly as he could. I sighed, returning the hug.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He said, looking up at me. The look on his face was of absolute joy...

"It's good to see you Mikey," I said, patting his shoulder. His face faltered slightly, but he rebounded quickly.

"Are you coming back? What have you been doing? Why have you been gone so long?"

I put a hand up, stopping his unending string of questions.

"Sorry Mikey, I was only stopping by for a minute," I said, dropping my arms. He stopped for a moment, studying me before resuming his bear hug on me.

"I'm so glad you're here... when are you finish this tantrum and come back home??"

I stiffened at that. Tantrum... that what they were calling it?

"This isn't a tantrum, Mikey," I said quietly. He loosened his hug and stepped back, looking at me worriedly.

"Please, Raph... just come back home," He pleaded. "Sensei's not been the same since you left."

"I've got my own shit to deal with, Mikey," I replied, looking away. "My own life..."

He sighed, pushing his hat back to scratch his head. "Come on, Raph.. he's our Dad. He gets angry sometimes , and--"

"He's Your dad, Mikey," I said, cutting him off. "We're done with each other."

His head snapped up, and I noticed a gleam in his eye. I set him off...

"Bullshit! He _misses_ you, Raphael," He nearly shouted. "Why can't you just... swallow your pride and--"

"Hold on," I said, cutting him off and stepping right up to him. "This was Not My Choice, Mikey. I don't know what the fuck they've been telling you, but I didn't decide this alone."

He blinked a few times and dropped his gaze to the ground. I watched him, chewing my lip a little. He looked upset about more than just me being gone.

"But... I miss you, Ani," His voice was muffled beneath the thick scarf he wore.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and then pulled him into a hug. "I miss you too, Oto.."

We stood there for a moment. He laid his head on my arm and sniffled. I sighed, pulling him back slightly. I had to stop this before he was bawling on my shoulder.

"Mikey... you just don't understand," I began. "You're able to live in your little cocoon. Be the baby of the family... Little Aiko. You have no idea what it's been like."

"Come on Raph," He said, wiping his eyes roughly. "You always say that to get out of doing stuff you don't like."

"I ain't saying a lie, Mikey," I replied. "You've never received the brunt of any wrong doing. You've never been punished for shirking responsibility. I'm taking responsibility for myself now..."

"Come on Raph, I just can't believe it to be true..Splinter wouldn't throw you out," He said, looking up at me. "I think-- I think you just got something in your head... and you're too stubborn to admit otherwise."

I sighed, shaking my head. I had to put an end to this. He didn't believe me when I said Splinter threw me out. It was just another 'Raph tantrum' to them.

"Mike, didn't it ever come to you that Nobody's been looking for me?" I said, tapping my forehead. "Don'cha think that if they were REALLY worried, that you guys woulda been sent for me? Think about it, Mikey..."

"I looked for you..."He said, looking hurt. "But Splinter said that 'the decision had been made', and to not search anymore..."

I looked away, stung by his words. I closed my eyes, feeling the anger surge.

"Mike... Just go back. There's nothing to be done. Just accept that things are different now.."

"I don't WANT to," he cried. "I'm tired of this... nobody talks about it, and if I try to, I get told to shut up about it..."

"I didn't have any other choice, Mike," I said through grit teeth, "He. Threw. Me. Out. HE decided this."

"Raph, I've seen you pull this so many times before..." He said, folding his arms.

"Mike, you didn't see what I saw," I said, feeling a headache coming on.

"Nobody sees what you see! Always so moody, stomping around, He snapped. "Sometimes you act like a totally different person..."

I was fed up. I wanted to leave, but I knew Mike would follow me.

"So...you would rather believe that I ran off, so you wouldn't have to believe that Splinter would disown any of us..?" I asked, looking at him. "Fine... then let me continue 'my tantrum'... and don't follow me ever again."

I don't remember what he said as I left the alley. But I felt an ache in my chest that just wouldn't go away. I told myself it was heartburn...

I continued back through town to Central Park, making my way to the Gapstow Bridge overlooking the Pond.

I stood at the top, looking at the water down below. Parts of the pond were still free of ice. I put my hands on the railing, seeing a shadow of a reflection below me. I had to separate myself from them. One final push to end everything. No ties, no reminders...

The water splashed and made the ice ripple. I watched as my sai quickly disappeared from sight, sinking to the bottom of the Pond. I turned and descended the bridge, walking all the way back to my home back at the Tavern...


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve 

Author's note: Many thanks for your continued reading. However I must give a warning here for excessive cursing and 'adult shtuff'. To those who protest human/turtle relations, It Is Fiction, and to the crazy fan-girls/boys who think they're getting detailed info about the freckles and veins on Raph's man-gear...um, look somewhere else.

Many thanks to Splinter for beta-ing this story for me. Now If I could just repay the favor... ;)

The metal springs of the couch bed squeaked as we bucked and groaned beneath the covers. Her eyes rolled back as I thrust against her, fingernails digging into my shoulders as she shuddered inside and out.

"Oh...Raph, Don't stop..!"

We ground against each other until finally collapsing in a sweaty heap. I rolled off to the side as she reached for a half crushed cigarette and a lighter. I propped myself up on one arm and watched her take a long slow drag. This was our ritual every time we'd get together for a romp – sex, take a drag, repeat until cigarette is gone. Sometimes if we're lucky we'd get four or five hits. She laid her head back and closed her eyes.

"What time is it getting to be..?" She murmured.

"'Bout eight," I whispered, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breasts.

"I gotta get going..."She sighed, mashing the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Come on," I said, letting one hand wander aimlessly, "We've got plenty of time with the water main out..."

"I got stuff to do," she replied, sliding out from under the covers. She picked her clothes up off the floor and headed to the bathroom down the hall.

I sat up and stretched with a groan. I pulled on some clothes and started getting stuff together for my nightly patrol. I set that stuff on the desk and then rolled up the bedding and put away the sofa bed. The room still smelled of sex, permeated even into the bedding.

Roxanne came back into the room, dressed and tying her hair back. The smell of lavender wafted into the room, overpowering. She pulled her boots on and grabbed her purse, rummaging through its contents.

"Shoot... Raphael, could I borrow a twenty?"

"Lemme grab my wallet.."

I pulled my wallet out of my duffel and removed some bills. This had been happening on a semi-regular basis, but I didn't really think anything of it. She took the bills and kissed my cheek.

"I'll pay you back next week," she said, rolling the bills tightly and stuffing them into her bra.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked, stuffing my hands into my pocket.

"I'm gonna be out of town till Monday," She replied, kissing me before heading out.

I watched her leave and sighed, sitting down on the couch.

A month had passed since my visit to April's, and I was still getting settled into my new life. I worked during the afternoon for Jake, spent the late night out on patrols and slept in till either noon or till Jake needed help, whichever came first.

I had my night stuff set up and ready, so I decided to head downstairs. I took a piss and headed down to the bar area. The place was dead because we'd had no water all day. With the place closed, we'd spent the day doing inventory and getting caught up on paperwork. Jake was sitting at the bar, watching sports news and nursing a coffee.

"How's things down here?"

"Boring," Jake yawned, "thought this place was coming down around me, dunno WHY..."

"Hey, gotta make up for lost time," I grinned, "you run us ragged during the week."

"Buncha Jackrabbits," Jake smirked, "I'da put a hose on you two if there was any water."

"Funny... speakin' of water, when do you think we'll be getting it back?"

"Around here? Probably not til Monday, not that it helps now," Jake muttered. "Damn lousy timing for a broken main. If they don't get it fixed for Black Sunday, I'm fucked."

"Black Sunday?"

"Superbowl Sunday. It's one of the few nights during the year that I always make my profits, he explained, "I haven't been closed during Superbowl in Years—I don't know what I'm gonna do if we can't open."

"Well... a day off will do you good," I said, walking around behind the bar.

"Days off don't pay the bills," he replied, throwing back the last of his coffee, "Slow I can handle, but dead... no."

I poured myself a Rum and Coke and settled on the stool behind the counter.

"You drink that shit?" Jake asked, scrunching his face.

"Trying it at least once," I shrugged. I told myself while I was working here to at least experiment with stuff a little. A bad run with some skunky beer helped push that idea... old beer is fucking nasty...

"Bleh, way too sweet for me," Jake grunted, nudging his empty coffee mug.

"One won't kill me," I said, taking his mug. "If I don't like it, I just won't have it again."

"That's what they all say," He replied, "Next thing you know, you're falling on your ass drunk with nothing but the shirt on your back."

I looked at Jake while I refilled his coffee. Usually he was in a good mood, joking an all, but tonight he seemed off. I set his coffee in front of him and dumped a handful of creamers into a dish for him before sitting down.

"I'm not some drunk, Jake," I said, "I know my limits."

"Ah, don't listen to me," He said, half smiling, "I've seen my share of real lushes. You don't seem the type."

"No drinking problems here," I said, looking at my drink, "Just family..."

"I know how that is," Jake nodded. "Sometimes it's easier talking to a brick wall."

He was more right than he realized. I took a sip of my drink and paused. Rum... has a flavor all it's own, but paired with coke... it wasn't the greatest thing I'd ever tasted.

"Looks like you're not having it again," Jake chuckled, dumping creamers into his mug. "I was never fond of the taste either."

"Meh, I like stuff that doesn't taste like sewer water," I said, taking another sip.

"I used to like cheap beer," Jake started, "the four dollar six-packs of whatever I could get my hands on. Got drunk quick and easy."

"I don't drink to get drunk," I replied, feeling the rum turn my stomach, "Seen too many people do that on a regular basis."

"I used to do it all the time... be able to drink anyone under the table," Jake said, stirring his coffee until the spoon nearly melted.

"You don't look the nasty drunk type," I said, pushing my glass to the side.

"Not anymore... but back a few years ago, I lived for it. Either shit-faced drunk, or waiting for the liquor store to open."

Jake sipped his coffee and stared at the wall in front of him.

"I started right after I left the army. Wasn't much more than twenty. I don't even remember the first couple years... I just drowned out everything."

"Jeezus," I muttered. It was hard to believe that someone could just LOSE two years of their life like that. "Nobody helped you out..."

"I'd driven off what friends I'd had. My family...whole different story."

He stirred his coffee again, looking at the counter top.

"My parents were hippies from back then. Flower power, Make love, not war, the whole 'legalize pot' movement. All that crap," He started, "They went completely bat-shit when they found out I joined the army."

"What'd they do? Threaten to kick you out?" It was starting to sound familiar...

"Mom acted like I was going to the gas chamber. Dad..." He paused a little, "He said if I left I was dead to him no matter what. They didn't even come to the train when I left."

I blinked at that, pulling the glass in front of me closer. At one point, it was the same kinda situation that I had happen to me. But it seemed even crueler...

"Well, I was deployed right after training, and then got injured a couple months later. I was at the VA hospital when I got a letter telling me that Dad had cancer..."

"What'd you do?" I didn't realize until then that I hadn't breathed in a good minute.

"I packed up and hauled ass back to New York. It took a while with paperwork delays and all..."

"So you made it back and cleared things up with your dad, then..." I assumed, taking a swig of my drink.

"I didn't make it," He said simply, "I stepped off the train and found out I'd missed him by an hour or two."

I looked at him, not sure what else to say. He stared at the bottom of his mug thoughtfully.

"Then life went to shit. I started drinking and never looked back. I could drink anyone under the table. Like I said, the first two years are gone..."

"So... wait, how'd you end up with the tavern here?" I asked. "No offense Jake, but giving an alcoholic his own bar is like giving a drug addict his own pharmacy.."

"Believe me, they wouldn't touch me with a forty foot pole. The only thing I was good for was making good cocktails," Jake said, shaking his head. "They said when I straightened my ass out to come back, and they'd consider talking about work.."

"So what made you straighten up?"

"Well, some stuff happened that changed things. I had a week where I just couldn't sleep. Not even pass out sleep. Friggen nightmares drove me nuts."

"You couldn't sleep because of bad dreams?" I started to wonder if that was more than just coffee he was drinking...

"Seriously. For a solid week, I dreamed my dad was yellin' at me like the Sergeant from Full Metal Jacket."

"Bullshit..." I snorted, getting a refill on my drink.

"Think all you want... I'd never had such a miserable week in my life. Scared the shit out of me. I started straightening myself out," Jake replied, "I dried up after a year or so. After seven years of drinking day and night, I turned around and spent the next five years saving money. I managed to get a job and work until I could rent to own the place."

"But I never forgot that night..." Jake half laughed, "Even from the dead, the bastard was reaming my ass."

"Parents are good at flippin out over nothin," I snorted, staring at my half-empty glass.

"You know how they are... Parents always are worrying about something." Jake said, finishing his coffee.

"Depends... my dad threw me out cuz he cared more about my older brother," I muttered, spinning my glass. "I didn't kiss his ass enough, apparently."

"Your brother?"

"Douche-bag with a holier-than-thou attitude," I said, finishing off my second drink. I was talking more than I normally would, but at the moment I didn't care. The Rum and Coke was probably helping that too...

"So... how's things with Roxanne?" Jake said, obviously changing the subject.

"Like you need to know..." I smirked.

"I ain't lookin' for details," Jake chuckled.

"We're doing pretty good," I replied, "She's been away a lot on the weekends, though."

"Yeah, I shifted the schedule a bit so she could get them off."

"Any idea as to why?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Just that she had stuff to do out of town."

"Well..if it was important, she'd let me know," I said, more to myself than anything.

"I would think so,." Jake shrugged. He frowned thoughtfully. "Ya know...the other weekend, I had Clyde stop by. He said he had to talk to Roxanne.."

"Did you kick him out?" I asked. I thought we'd gotten rid of the douche bag...

"I told him he wasn't welcome, so he left," Jake said, downing more coffee.

"Where the hell was I during all this?"I frowned.

"You were on the beer orders," He replied. "I just told him to get lost, that was it."

"Well, if he's smart, he'll stay away from here. And Roxanne," I said, glaring down at my glass.

"Roxanne's smart, she won't go near that dirt bag.."

We fell silent for a while, watching the news coverage on the Patriots vs Giants. And NASCAR. I glanced at the clock – 9pm. I needed to get out before I got anymore depressed. I could start my patrol a little early...

"Alright, m'gonna head out for a while, " I said, downing the last of my drink.

"Don't do anything I would," Jake replied, raising his glass in a salute before returning to his game.

I headed upstairs to my room and changed into my patrol gear: black clothes, black boots, black gloves and gun holster... I looked like some Splinter Cell reject, but it kept me warm and out of sight. My only problem was that empty feeling of having no sai... that was the hardest thing to get used to..

As I sat on the couch and got dressed, my eyes fell onto the half-filled ashtray. My groin suddenly twinged, and I had a new desire to go see Roxanne one more time. She wasn't leaving until tomorrow, heck probably even packed by now – one quick visit wouldn't hurt...

I finished pulling my gear on and climbed out my window to the fire escape. I vaguely remembered Roxanne telling me where her address was. Knowing her, she was probably packing her stuff to travel for the weekend.

So off I went, dressed to kill with an itch for Roxanne to scratch. I'd only seen her place once, mostly by accident. I was out on a patrol one night and saw her walk into an apartment. That was before we started dating, though. How we ended up doing that is still a wonder...

I could only describe the place as small and run down. It was a corner apartment on the bottom floor of a big complex. I could still remember seeing her walking around in an silk bathrobe drinking from a wine goblet.

I made my way through the alleys and up to the rooftops. I could see bright lights further down the road – probably the crews fixing the water-main. The streets were quiet enough that I could hear engine noises from the firetrucks and public works vehicles.

Poor bastards... I wouldn't be surprised if half the road wasn't frozen over. It was brutally cold outside, definitely below zero. The sky was cloudless, which made it that much colder. I counted myself lucky that I had someplace warm to stay on a night like this.

I finally came to the complex and climbed down to the streets. The apartment complex was a big conglomerate of two-floor apartments. Roxanne's was on the very ended, surrounded by parking spaces on three sides.

I adjusted my hood as I came up to her doorstep. The light outside was off, but they were on inside. I raised my hand to knock, only for the door to creak inward – it was left open.

I frowned, slowly pushing the door open. On the floor lay Roxanne's purse and a shoe. I slowly stepped inside, reaching for my sai-- then I remembered that I'd gotten rid of them a month ago..

"Dammit," I cursed under my breath.

I worked my way further into the apartment, glancing around. There was no sign of a struggle... maybe she just forgot to lock the door? Another shoe appeared at the foot of the stairs to the second floor. I should have heard or seen her by now...

"What the hell..."

"Ohhh! Ahh!! Don't..."

My eyes shot upward. That didn't sound good at ALL. I raced up the staircase, hand on my pistol. I followed her shouts to the door at the end of the upstairs hallway.

"Roxanne!" I yelled, and kicked the door open.

The scene before me was not what I'd expected at all...

I'd kicked the door open, and was nearly knocked over by the rancid smell of pot and B.O. Then I saw it -- Roxanne completely naked, straddling an equally naked man, riding him like a bucking bull... the bastard even still had his boots on. I was stunned, unable to move for a good ten seconds or so. Roxanne spun around and staggered off of the man, trying to cover up with a pillow. The man sat up, and I found myself breathless.

"What the hell is that freak doing here?" Clyde said, sitting up, not bothering to cover himself up. My mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out. Talk about out of nowhere...

"You...bitch," I finally said, feeling my whole body shudder in anger. "You fucking bitch..."

"Get out of here, Raph..." she said, flushed from head to toe and obviously shocked to see me there. I snarled, picking up her dress from the floor and throwing it in her face.

"Put some fucking clothes on, you whore."

I spun around, punching a whole in the wall before stomping out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I had to get out of there before I used the gun...

It didn't take long to get back to running the rooftops. Only this time, I was running back to the bar. I couldn't believe it... that bitch was stringing me along the entire time. That line about Clyde being nothing but a problem was bullshit, utter bullshit.

"Fucking cunt..." I kept muttering, like some angry mantra.

It wasn't much longer until I finally reached the bar. I ran inside, everything tunnel-visioned as I hurried through the tavern and upstairs.

I pulled my duffel bag out from under the desk in my room, and started stuffing it with my few belongings. I knew that it had been too good to be true, I knew things couldn't stay like this for good. Nothing's ever that easy for me...

"Raphael...!"

I zipped my bag up and turned to see Roxanne standing in the room, makeup still smeared, hair askew.

"I don't wanna hear it," I said, stepping around her.

"Raph, wait," She said, touching my arm, "Please, I... he forced me to..."

"You looked Real happy being forced," I said, trying to step around her. She looked down and sighed.

"Please, Raph... I've never met another person like you before," She said, parting her lips slightly. "Please believe me."

"Go talk to someone who cares," I replied. Nothing she said would change my mind...

"Raph, I swear, if you leave..." she tried to threaten, stepping in front of me.

"Go back to your fuck buddy, Roxanne. We both know that's what you want," I frowned, and pushed her aside before leaving the room.

I ignored her calls as I headed downstairs. Jake was at the bar, looking very confused when he saw me.

"Raph, I just saw Roxanne fly through here, what's.."

"M'sorry Jake.." I started, "But some things came up... I gotta go. I just wanted to thank you for yer hospitality."

I offered him my hand, and he studied me for a moment before taking my hand.

"I hate to lose you, man," He said. "You're a good kid and a hard worker. You'll come by again sometime...?"

"Yeah," I nodded. We shook hands briefly before I left the tavern.

I sat on the edge of The Pond, glaring at the ice. I don't know how long I sat there... my hands were numb, my face burned from the cold. All I could see was Roxanne riding that scumbag like a rented mule.

"Bitch... fucking bitch...back-stabbing two-faced whore...I should've known.."

I stared at the ice-covered pond, regretting throwing my sai into the pond. Those sai were mine. A part of me – my identity, my purpose in life. Who was I now? Some broke punk, living off what few items I had left over from wasting my time with some pot-smoking whore who was working a bunch of different guys. I couldn't believe I was such an idiot... why hadn't I seen it?

I kicked a chunk of ice onto the lake. There was nothing I could do now. Roxanne was gone, my job was gone, My shelter, my sais... my family. It was all gone. Gone...


	13. Chapter 13

No Place to Call HomeChapter Thirteen

((Author's Note: Many thanks to my dedicated readers. You don't know how good it feels to see this story on people's favorite lists.. you all make me blush! :) And apologies to those who thought they were reading through a bad smut story at the start of the last chapter.. ;) ))

It'd been about 36 hours since I'd left the bar, and I hadn't slept a wink. All I'd done was walk around Manhattan, taking the frustration out on whatever punk, pickpocket and purse-snatcher I could lay my hands on.

Fortunately (if you could call it that), I'd had enough money saved from the bar job that I at least didn't have to dumpster-dive for a while. I figured if I rationed my money out to a few bucks a day, I'd do alright for the next few weeks, maybe longer if I kept jumping punks in the alleys.

I finally got tired enough to stop and rest for a bit. I settled back against a big maple tree, out of sight of the trails nearby. I pulled out a tin of Sterno and a cigarette lighter. I was lucky to find any of these tins, especially with the cold snap we'd had.

It took a second or two to light, and then I settled it into the snow so it sat flat. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a can of soup and a plastic fork. I popped the top a crack, and set the can cock-eyed on the Sterno to cook – I learned to do that trick Real quick, after putting my sterno out a few times with just matches at hand...

I hunched over the tiny fire, trying to warm my face and hands, even if just a little. I hadn't noticed the cold really, until I sat down. But as I watched my dinner heat up, I sat back as thought about the situation. I was no better off than when I'd first been kicked out of the lair. Still homeless, still cold, still miserable. A part of me wanted to go back, to talk to Splinter about taking me back in. But the rest of me knew that wasn't gonna happen – pride would never allow it...

Some tendrils of steam rose from the can, so I took the top completely off and stirred the soup. I tested the can with the back of my hand before picking it up. I put the lid back on the sterno and sat back to enjoy my dinner.

I glanced toward the thicket as I ate. Some kids were pelting each other with snowballs, while their parents were sitting on a bench nearby.

I remembered back when that was the four of us – running around, making snow turtles, trying to get Mike to eat yellow snow. Splinter was always nearby, ready to move us if we got too cold or if someone was coming. I never forgot when Don tried to throw a snowball at Leo, only to end up hitting Sensei square in the nose. Everyone kinda froze for a moment, and then we suddenly broke out into a five-way free-for-all. Then we all went back home, curled up under some blankets and had cocoa that we'd rescued from a gas station dumpster.

I stared at the bottom of my soup can. I drank down the last of the soup, cleaned the can with a handful of snow and put the can back into my bag – five cents at the depository. I relit the sterno and took off my gloves. My hands were frozen, even with extra layers. I cupped the tin in my hands and absorbed as much heat as I could. I held it up close, hoping to thaw my cheeks at least a little. I'd been cold for so long they started to hurt. It was time to get moving again...

My body ached as I got to my feet. I grabbed my bag and trudged out of the snow to the walkway. All I wanted was a warm place to stay for an hour or so. I headed back towards the bridge and stopped at the rail to rest. Even with the extra layers, hot food in my stomach and the rest, I felt totally winded. It was _So Cold_.

I glanced down at the ice; just a few feet below, I knew my sai were there. For a moment, I swore I could see a glint of metal, taunting me like, "I'm right here, come and get me..." I wished now that I hadn't thrown them out now. But what was done was done.

I shivered violently, from the back of my head all the way down in one big rush. This cold snap was never gonna end, it seemed – just looking at the ice made me cold. I turned away from the water and looked at the trees.

Nearby, I noticed a guy was laying down on a park bench. I noticed the clothes, and realized it was a homeless guy that I had seen through this part of town on several occasions in the past. He was curled up on a pile of newspapers with a jacket pulled around himself. Next to him in the snow was an empty bottle of cheap brandy, and on the ground in front of him was a ripped old army blanket. A tinge of empathy struck me, and I walked over to the man.

"Hey mister, ya dropped yer blanket," I said, stopping in front of the guy. He didn't respond, so I shook his shoulder.

"Hey, wake up... you're lucky nobody took your blanket." Still no response. He was probably drunk, judging from the empty bottle.

"Damn lush," I muttered.

As I leaned down to pick up the blanket, I realized something was wrong. The blanket was completely frozen, to the point where it was stiff and would not come off the ground. The other thing... there was no steam. The man's face was coated in ice, and his skin was a sickly blue color. No steam, no movement, nothing... He was dead.

I didn't move. I couldn't. Looking into the mans dead face rendered me paralyzed. This man with no family, no place to be mine. No future. I suddenly saw my own face flash before me, frozen and lifeless.

And for the first time that I could remember, I panicked.

"No...no, that's never gonna happen...not to me. Not ever.." I stammered, backing away from the corpse. I stumbled and landed on my backside, still scrambling backwards until I collided against the metal rails. I spun around, grabbing onto the bars and peering out over the open landscape. I felt trapped; I had to get out of the city.

The nearby approach of footsteps pulled me out of my shock. The family from the thicket was walking this way. I grabbed my bag and fled from the scene.

"I gotta get outta here... there has to be someplace."

I exited the park and ran to the first place that came to mind – Casey's bachelor pad.

* * *

I peered into one dirty window, searching for signs of life. Nobody – no lights, TV, nothing. Ever since he and April had gotten hooked up, he didn't spend as much time here as he used to. But I still needed to get inside – the wind was picking up, and I figured if Casey wasn't using his place, he wouldn't mind.

I glanced up and down the alleyway below me, and then to the nearby windows. Again, nothing. I drew back and punched a hole into one of the glass panes. I reached in and undid the latch, shredding my jacket sleeve in the process. I threw up the sash and climbed in onto a messy counter-top. There were signs of a Chinese takeout dinner in the trash. Maybe some leftovers were in the fridge.

I saw the telephone on the wall and stopped short. He was probably at April's, which meant I'd have to call there.

"Great," I muttered, picking up the phone and dialing. I prayed that nobody would pick up. Better no one than to have April or the others. I listened to the rings. One... two... three...

"Nobody's home", I grunted, and went to hang up.

"Hello? S'anyone there?"

I sighed and put the phone to my ear.

"Your timing is damn lousy, ya know," I muttered. I took my jacket off and slung it over a chair.

"Raph? Jeezus, it's you--"

"Shut up," I hissed, "Ya don't have to broadcast it."

"Jeez, bite my head off," he said, lowering his voice. "Where the hell have you been? The others are look--"

"I gotta keep this short," I interrupted, "I gotta get outta town."

"No shit, sherlock... What are--"

"I can't explain, I just gotta go," I said, opening his fridge and scavenging some pizza and a root beer. "Tell me you know somewhere I could crash for a while."

"Gee, I dunno.." He started. "All's I know of around here isn't exactly the best place to be right now."

"Just give me SOMETHING, Case," I said, throwing the pizza into the nuker. "I'm open to anything at this point."

"You've always got the farmhouse to go to," he replied.

"C'mon, Case," I groaned. I really didn't want to go there.

"It's the best I can offer ya, Raphie boy," he said.

"Ugh...fine," I relented. "If you tell Anyone where I am..."

"I know, I know, you'll kick the crud outta me."

"Good. Now, where are the keys?" I asked, rummaging through the cupboards.

"The main set are here-"

"That ain't gonna help me here, dumb ass," I replied, stuffing two cans of ravioli into my bag.

"Shuddup an' lemme finish," Casey said, raising his voice. "There's an extra set of keys taped to the underside of the coffee table."

"What kinda hiding spot is that..." I asked, going into the den.

"It's so I can remember where it is."

I rolled my eyes and made my way past the dumbbells and empty food containers. I managed to reach the table and felt under the edge. There, a strip of masking tape held two keys in place.

"Alright, I got em" I said, removing the keys and getting to my feet.

"Good. So how long you planning on staying there?"

"I don't know, I said. I noticed a sweater laying on the couch and grabbed it – the walk was going to be cold. "It depends on how things go."

"I really wish you'd think about this Raph."

"It's outta my hands now," I said. I headed back to the kitchen and pulled the sweater on over my shirt. I pulled my pizza out of the nuker and opened my soda.

"Alright," He sighed, "Good luck on getting there. Can ya 'least call me when ya get there."

"We'll see," I replied and hung up. I stuffed the keys in my pocket and worked on my pizza while raiding the cupboard for supplies. I tossed in some more canned goods and soda cans. I half-heard the Grinch Song in my head as I stuffed a can of hashed into my bag with everything else. I polished off the rest of my pizza and climbed back out of the window.

* * *

I eventually made it to the greyhound station, stopping at bars and convenience stores along the way to warm up. The station was fairly busy, even at this time of night. Some folks were catnapping against the walls, while a couple kids waisted their change on the chairs with the pay-per-view mini-TVs.

I bought my ticket and ducked into the bathroom, which wasn't much bigger than your average closet. At least the lock worked...

I set my stuff down and glanced around at the walls. Every inch of wallpaper was covered in signatures and dates. 'Dave and Kelly 2001, Martinez wuz here, for a good time call 396-684-2294...' your usual bathroom graffiti. Then I noticed one section where someone had scratched some lines into the wall. And it read as such:

'With some people solitariness is an escape not from others but from themselves. For they see in the eyes of others only a reflection of themselves. Eric Hoffer'

I sat on the lid of the toilet and looked at my ticket: Northampton, Massachusetts. I was leaving New York, and I had no idea when or IF I would return. It would be a total change – no more huge city, no more heavy traffic, no more crowds. Nothing to remind me of this place.

I took off my scarf and stared at my reflection. Old scars, what looked (and felt) like frostbite, and dark circles under my eyes. Everything seemed blurry around the edges, and I had an overwhelming need to sleep.

A click and scratch of static came from overhead, before the tinny voice came over from a mini-speaker that was duct-taped to the wall.

"Now Boarding the L15 for Connecticut and Southern Massachusetts."

I glanced at my watch – 11:32pm. Time to go... I splashed my face with some water, put my scarf back on and went back out to the waiting room.

A good ten or twenty people were outside, putting their luggage into the undercarriage. I went around the crowd and climbed onto the bus with my one bag. I settled into the bench seat in the far back, pulled my hood down to block out the light and settled in for parts unknown...


	14. Chapter 14

No Place to Call Home

Chapter Fourteen

((Author's Note: I want to say a very sincere thank you to Splinter – You are a great writer and a wonderful friend. A big thank you goes to all my readers for hanging in there these past few months. Real life problems came up, and the writing block has been a battle to overcome. But thank you for the faves, reviews and watches. The following chapters will come along much sooner now. For those of you that are familiar with deviantArt, I am considering putting my stories up there in my account as well.

Disclaimer: TMNT aren't mine. The Song Lyrics come from the Massachusetts state folk song))

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.

I woke up to dim sunlight shining through my hood. I stretched and sat up, peering over the seats. There were still a number of people left – most were asleep, one working on a laptop, another plugged into an iPod.

I felt my stomach chewing my backbone, and figured some breakfast was in order. I searched my bag and pulled out a pop-top tin of ravioli. Cold, but at least not frozen.

"_Like a dream in the night  
As the snow settles white,  
There's a fire burning bright  
In Massachusetts"_

I glanced at the guy singing across the aisle from me. He was an older black guy, dressed in a brown suit, a gnarled hat in his lap. He looked like a door-to-door salesmen from about fifty years ago. I figured he was senile and turned back to my breakfast.

"_And there's a house upon a hill  
That keeps us from the chill  
And by the grace of God  
We will be in Massachusetts"_

I groaned inwardly. If this guy was gonna be singing til we reached the state line, I was ready to climb on the roof for the rest of the trip. I finished my food and stuffed the can back into my bag. The guy started humming, and the prospect of going back to sleep began to dwindle. I propped my knees up against the seat in front of me and did my best to ignore it.

Rustle. Rustle. Click. Click... Rustle.

"Hmm... Oh dear."

Oh come ON... wouldn't this guy give it a rest? I opened one eye and looked at the guy. He was going through a suitcase on the seat beside him.

He was pulling out some empty sandwich bags, like he was looking for something. My guess, he didn't have any food. I pulled a can of Dinty Moore out of my bag and tossed it into his seat. He did a double-take and then smiled towards me.

"Why thank you, sir..." he said, taking the can in one shaking hand. "S'very generous of you."

"Don't worry about it," I mumbled, and turned back to the window.

"Mm Mm," I heard him say, opening the tin. I looked at him, eating the stew like it was the best food on the planet. I turned back to the window and tried to fall back asleep. That guy was still eating like I'd given him a fancy steak or something.

"Mm MMM... thank you, young man, that's the first real food I've had in the last 900 miles," he chuckled. "Well, anything that wasn't a gas station hotdog..."

"900...?" I looked at him again, not sure if I'd heard him right.

"Yessir," he nodded, "I've been on this bus since Trenton."

That was when I knew the guy wasn't all there. It wasn't more than three hundred miles between Jersey and Mass.

"I think yer math's off, buddy," I muttered. I looked back to the window, hoping he'd give up talking to me for a while. I heard some rustling and looked back over grudgingly. The old man had pulled out a worn-out notepad and looked at his watch.

"Mm-Hmm...1,638 miles from Trenton, Texas," he said, scribbling in his pad. He smiled wistfully as he put the pad back into his suitcase.

Texas? Jeezus... I couldn't imagine being stuck in a bus for that long. I always hated the couple hours drive from the city to the farmhouse, and that was only a few hours...

"It Is a very long trip," he nodded, as if he'd heard my thoughts. "But I know it'll all be worth it in the end."

I glanced over at the guy with the feeling I was gonna be hearing a story whether I wanted to or not. The guy lifted his suitcase and moved to his seat next to the aisle.

"I've spent fifteen years of my life on the road, selling insurance. I've crossed this country more times than I can remember. I've helped thousands of people take care of their families for the time after they have moved on. But, now I've got a chance to see my own family..."

He paused and then opened his suitcase, smiling. I sat up a little, watching him rummage through his papers. He pulled a dog-eared Polaroid out and held it up for me.

"That's my little girl. Was her fifteenth birthday, just before I took to the road," He said, offering me the picture. "Leaving her and her mother was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life."

I took the picture into one gloved hand. A teenage girl with wicked curly hair and a pink bandanna, leaning against a woman who had an arm around her. The mom, I assumed. On the back were the words 'Lucia and Nancy, 3/12/93'.

"Nice pic," I said, handing it back.

"Thank you," He said, taking the picture. He sighed a little, touching the faces lightly. "I called every evening for two years, making sure everything was okay, sending money every week or so."

"That's a long time to be away from home," I said, looking at my hands, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Too long", he said, putting the picture away. "Especially when there's family involved."

"Hrm... family's overrated sometimes," I said, scooching back to put my knees up higher on the seat in front of me.

"Oh?" He said, sitting up in his seat, "Why would you think like that?"

"Had a falling out," I said with a shrug. "Family and me don't talk anymore."

"Ahh," He nodded, "I felt that way too, for a while. After a few years, it got so that I wouldn't hear from the family, except when they needed money. Yet, if I called, they'd say they couldn't talk, or would let the machine answer and not pick up."

That had to go over well, I thought to myself.

"I started to figure that Nancy was seeing another man," he shrugged, "so I stopped calling and kept the checks."

"So you just kept working, and saved the money for yourself..." I said.

"You could say that," he said, nodding. "A few years passed, and then one day, I received a phone call..."

Probably wanting more money, I figured...

"My daughter called with news: her mother was diagnosed with cancer. She'd been trying to locate me for the past 5 weeks."

"So you just up and went," I said, "Even after all they did..?"

He half-smiled and looked at me.

"If my daughter can give me a second chance, how could I not do the same?"

* * *

.

.

I stepped out of the bus into thick muddy slush. I glanced over my shoulder at the old man that I'd spoken with. He glanced down at me and nodded as the bus pulled out of the station.

I slung my duffel over my shoulder and looked around. Everything was grey due to the clouds totally blocking the sun The snow was still falling, though it had lessened considerably. But the wind started to pick up, and I knew I had to get moving before I lost anymore warmth. Fortunately, I knew where I was, where I had to go and a rough idea of how long it would take.

I started mapping out a plan of what I needed to do once I got to the farmhouse. I knew the water would probably be shut off, but that would be an easy fix. There were usually canned goods in the pantry and in the cellar. The hardest thing would be starting the fire. This was gonna be the best living I'd had in about.. jeez, three months? I can't even remember at this point...

Through the grey and white, I could see some lights on at a convenience store up a few blocks. The store was just opening, from the looks of it. There were no tire tracks in the fresh snow, and the lights over the door were buzzing loudly – still warming up. I opened the door and was welcomed by the rich smell of fresh coffee. I stepped inside and unzipped my jacket, feeling the cold air seep out of my clothes. I pulled my wallet out and started counting my change. I needed coffee – there was no way I was walking out empty-handed. Wild horses couldn't drag me away at this point...

I felt watched and looked up. At the counter, sitting on a stool was a young girl, not much older than eight or nine. She was wearing a thick sweater and a knit hat with the little kooshball on top. Her hand was busy coloring in a book, but her eyes were on me. Not focused, like she was in a daze. I frowned and look back down at my change; just enough for coffee, maybe a hotdog. I took the strongest coffee they had and threw a bunch of chocolate creamers in. The hotdogs weren't yet ready, so I decided to wander the aisle. I was willing to wait...

I sipped my coffee slowly as I looked at the canned foods. My stomach soured as I looked at the canned ravioli. I was at the point where I never wanted to eat that slop ever again. I was sick of eating canned mush, sick of half-assed cold tomato sauce. There had to be some real food at the farmhouse, or I was gonna lose my mind.

As I migrated down the chip aisle, I had that watched feeling return. I turned and saw the girl a few feet away, peeking from behind a Snickers display. She didn't say anything, she just tilted her head and stared.

"Whatchu want, Kid?" I said, adjusting my scarf. The girl smiled and covered her mouth with her hands.

I shook my head and decided to check on the hotdogs. They were finished, thankfully. I grabbed one, threw some mustard and onions on it and took a bite. The warmth felt so good going down, I had to force myself to eat slowly. Once again, that watched feeling came over me. A small giggle from the side made me roll my eyes as I turned. The girl was STILL watching me while hiding her face with her hands.

"What do you want, kid?" I said impatiently. I was too cold and too tired to tolerate anything at this point, especially some snot-nosed kid that's got nothing better to do than follow people around.

The sound of wheels stopped me from saying something worse. I turned and saw a man pushing a dolly full of bright yellow kerosene pails.

"G'morning,"he said, glancing over his load at me. He looked down at the girl and I caught the tiniest glimpse of something in his expression.

"Meg, come and get your daughter," He hollered, looking over his shoulder to the back room. From the back came a woman in a thick sweater and cheap mukluks. She quickly came to the girl's side and picked her up.

"Come on sweetie," she said, "let's go color some pictures."

"Sorry about that," The man said, watching them go back to the counter. "Emily tends to wander if she's not being watched."

"No harm done," I said, readjusting my scarf. He pushed his load of pails toward the store front, so I grabbed my food and brought it to the counter. The mom was leaning over the girl, showing her some crayons to play with. Now that I'd seen her, I realized then that she wasn't quite all there. Like she was autistic or something – the lights were on, but nobody was home.

"Did you find everything you needed today?" the man asked, stepping behind the counter. I set my stuff down and pulled out my wallet.

"S'all I need," I said, dumping the change purse onto the counter. It's not easy counting change when you're wearing mittens. "You know anything about today's forecast?"

"They said there's a wind chill warning for day," he replied, counting out nickels and dimes. "There's some places still without power right now."

As long as it doesn't start soon," I said, picking up my food again.

"Makes for a cold walk," He said, leaning back against the cigarette rack.

"Well, I survived the walk from the bus station," I shrugged, "It's not--"

"Bus!"

I looked over at the girl – she was drawing and peeking at me with a huge smile.

"Very good, Emily.." said her mother. She glanced up from her hovering with a genuinely surprised look. "She's usually very quiet around people she doesn't know."

"I dunno," I shrugged, glancing back down at the girl. As I drank my coffee, she got suddenly bashful again and looked down at her artwork. She was making stick figures that stood surrounding a tree.

"Maybe you can say Goodbye, Emily..?" The man said, reaching for something from under the counter. But the girl didn't respond, still drawing hair and facial expressions on her people. One figure stood at a distance from the other two, holding something in it's hand and looking unhappy.

"I'll leave you folks to your work," I said, turning for the door.

"Thank you for coming. Have a safe walk," the mother said, waving.

"Buh-bye.." The little girl spoke once again. Her mother praised her for talking, but the dad didn't seem as impressed. He muttered something to the mother and then followed me outside.

I stuffed the last remnant of hotdog into my mouth and set my coffee on the trash bin lid to re-zip my jacket. The dad leaned against the corner of the building and opened a pack of cigarettes.

"Have fun out there," he said, folding his arms and taking a drag. He had come out with not much more on than a long-sleeve flannel shirt. And the wind was starting to pick up and dust everything with snow.

"Likewise," I said, picking up my coffee.

"Always is," he said sarcastically, flicking ashes into the air.

* * *

So there I started my long trek to the farmhouse. Once I reached the edge of the town, I was forced to walk on the road itself. The plows had gone through, burying driveways and sidewalks in about three feet of dirty snow. I knew I had a good two mile walk down this road, and then a mile down the dirt road that led to the farmhouse. With the weather and my duffel, it would take a good hour or two. Time I couldn't afford to be out in; I was losing the little warmth I'd retained from the store already. The wind was whipping up snow into the air, building seven-foot snowdrifts everywhere. Turning a corner in the road was becoming a life-or-death situation with the Massholes driving like maniacs.

Part of me started to think that this wasn't a good idea. Why leave one place to go to another that's so immersed in the same memories? There could have been other places for me to go, places I wouldn't risk seeing them again in. It'd be done for – no second-guessing myself anymore. I told myself then and there that I would only be at the farmhouse for a short while – just until the spring. Then, I would move on. Maybe further south, to the swamps or even the Caribbean..

I noticed a walking trail with some trucks parked further down the road. Hunters, probably.. but that gave me an idea. If I cut through the woods, I would be able to make it to the house in less time. A straight line to the house would be worth walking in some deep snow for a while. As long as I didn't get mistaken for a whitetail deer...

I climbed over the snowdrifts and made my way into the trail. The sun started to shine a little through the trees, but the increasing wind was so cold that it made no difference. The trail itself was a wind tunnel.

I looked down and saw some footprints in the snow. It could have been the hunters from the trucks down the road – I couldn't tell how long ago, though. I decided to turn off the trail and head towards the farm. I had to get to the house as soon as possible, or I wasn't going to make it period. The wind was just too damn cold, and I was finding it harder and harder to pull my boots out of the snow.

Gunshots rang out in the distance, and I quickened my pace, grabbing onto trees and pulling myself through the snow. The situation was going to get dangerous if I didn't hurry. My throat and lungs hurt from the cold air, and my legs began to cramp. I stumbled and dragged myself along, until I found a trail that was familiar. One we'd use for doing laps while up for the summer. It was just a little further to go...

It took everything in my power to not collapse when I saw the farmhouse just up at the edge of the woods. I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in a warm bed or even a rock in the sunlight at this point. I dropped onto my knees on the first step of the back porch and crawled my way up. I knelt against the door, going through my pockets. I finally pulled the keys out of my jacket and climbed back onto my feet. My hands were numb as I tried every key.

The door finally opened, and I nearly fell into the foyer. I closed the door behind me and stepped towards the living room. I glanced around as I caught my breath. All of the furniture was covered with plastic, protected from the layer of dust that covered everything. Even the windows were covered. I forced myself to walk over to one window and opened the curtain. Very dim sunlight flooded in, over the couch and toward the fireplace. I set my (almost frozen) coffee on the side table and dropped to my knees in front of the hearth. I leaned over and dropped my duffel on the ground. I had to start a fire, before anything else. It was cold enough inside the house to see my breath.

I pulled the last two magazines out of my bad and started tearing them into strips. I made a pile in the middle of the fireplace and then pulled out my last sterno can. I scraped the last smear of goo out and threw it onto the pile.

"This is gonna be easy," I said to myself. All my previous fires were tiny and only lasted for a short time. I had to make it stretch. I looked at my gooey pile of paper with great anticipation and relief. I was so cold...

I reluctantly took off my mittens and searched my bag for the cigarette lighter. The reservoir was empty, giving little more than a spark. Hopefully it would be enough. I leaned in close to the pile, my head almost on the floor as I sparked the pile to life. There was a satisfying fwoop and the sterno gave off an orangey-clear flame.

"Thank god," I sighed, holding my hands close to the fire. I threw the last few paper strips onto the pile and watched it flare up. The sterno made the fire grow fast, melting the plastic in the magazine pages, pouring nasty fumes out of the hearth. So I opened the flue all the way, figuring more air equaled more fire. Me and my logic...

I turned for just a second, reaching for my coffee.

Splat.

Hiss.

I turned back just in time to see a chunk of ice encrusted snow fall right onto my fire.

"Fuck!" I cried, leaping at the fire. I brushed the now slushy chunks off the pile of paper. The fire was out. The papers were soaked.

"No..." Cold tears flooded my vision as I sank to my elbows. I laid on the floor by the soggy pile, weeping. I was so tired, so frozen I could feel cold radiate from my body. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. For the briefest of moments, I thought I would die there by the fireplace. The ultimate irony, frozen for eternity.

After, I dunno, ten minutes... I lifted my head and wiped my eyes. Falling apart wasn't going to bring back the fire. I pushed myself upright and looked back at the mess in the hearth. None of it was salvageable. All of my magazine paper was gone, the Sterno can had nothing in it and my lighter was dead. My only hope was that there might be something else.

I managed to get to my feet, stiff from head to toe. If I didn't get a fire going, I wasn't going to be able to move at all. I limped my way into the kitchen and started going through drawers and cupboards. April and Casey usually kept a lot of emergency stuff: candles, matches, oil lamps. All I can say is, Thank god for the Pantry...

I returned to the fireplace, armed with a box of matches and a bag of very stale corn chips. It wasn't much, but I had to try. I didn't have anymore magazines, so I resorted to tearing the labels off my cans and stuffing them into the sterno can. I put a handful of corn chip remnants in the can and pulled out a match. I moved to my stomach, leaning my head over the sterno can to watch for signs of smoldering.

I lit the match and threw it into the can. The corn chips caught fire and burned bright and hot. I moved the little fire back into the fireplace, this time not leaving it directly under the flue. I threw more can labels in and managed to sit up again. I looked into the wood bin beside the fireplace and managed to find a couple small scraps, and threw those directly onto the flames. I needed to get this fire up and roaring.

A few old dirty magazines (previously confiscated and punished for) later, the fire was up and running steadily, even drying out the mass of magazine pulp from the first time. I had taken off my sweaters and sat as close as I could without setting my butt on fire.

I turned to one side and glanced up at the stones that surrounded the fireplace. Etched into the rock were blast marks, permanently blackened with soot. Then I remembered...

Back a few years ago, Leo and Don were setting up a fire, walking back and forth into the cellar getting wood bundles. Thing was, neither one realized that the other was putting lighter fluid on the logs they were putting into the fireplace. There ended up being about half a bottle of fluid in the woodpile. The resulting explosion actually shook the house, resulting in a few stopped hearts, two very singed masks and a lot of lectures for the two of them.

Then there was the time Mike and I made s'mores with peanut butter cups. We ate a few too many and ended up sick for two days. And then the first time we used fireworks for July 4th. And the first Christmas here. And when we came to hide...

I shivered and turned to the other side. The memories just wouldn't stop coming. But the fire was going, and I wasn't as cold anymore. I pulled my sweater back on, curled up on the floor and pulled my jacket over me before falling into a cold exhausted sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen.

Snow started to fall as I climbed the porch steps. In one hand was an old fishing pole; in the other were two small lake trout. I already had them gutted, cleaned and hung on a stringer.

I bumped the door shut and banged my feet clean before coming into the den. I pulled a fistful of wintergreen out of each pocket and dropped them and the fish onto the coffee table. I couldn't wait to get this brewing. I hung my jacket up and took a seat by the fire.

During the past three weeks, the cold cave of a house had become a refuge. Anything was better than alleys and cardboard boxes. I spent my mornings chopping firewood, and managed a meager supply on the back porch. The living room was my main space, and I did everything I could to lose as little heat as possible, even tack blankets over the doors and windows. I tread the line of hibernation temperatures carefully, since I couldn't keep the fire very big. Just enough to take the edge off. I couldn't afford nosy neighbors tromping around the yard.

It had been a good morning - Probably because of the full moon we had. We were having a mini-thaw, and a couple holes opened up close to the shore so I could actually have shelter from the wind. These trout could last a day or so. Once I could feel my hands, I moved my fish to the hearth and checked on my other items. Hanging up by the fireplace was a rabbit pelt. After following tracks for one week and then setting traps for a second (and third), I'd finally caught and slaughtered my own food. The pelt would be used for making gloves or something in the near future.

Food supplies were low – always. The cupboards were bare, save for a rat-chewed box of rice and some dented cans of broth. And spice jars… dozens of spice jars. My meals comprised of rice that was cooked in hot broth that I used over and over. I had to supplement with anything I could find in the woods, which wasn't much. It sucked... but at least it wasn't ravioli.

Now, being a city guy, I'm not exactly the survivalist type. Rationing and living out of dumpsters, I've done - But out here? The most experience I've had with 'nature' for most of my life was the occasional late night visit to Central Park. It ain't exactly the Wilderness. But while going through the bookcases for info (and tinder), I found a book called 'Stalking the Wild Asparagus'. I don't usually care for a lot of reading, but I found myself glued to this book. I even took it with me to read while ice-fishing...

There's not a lot of stuff in the dead of winter, but some had their uses. Did you know white birch bark is a fuel source, even if wet? Other stuff... wintergreen I've gotten a liking for. I always find tons of it under the pine trees out back. Heck, pine has edible crap on it. Not that I'm *that* brave... It'd been a real challenge. Slitting a rabbit's throat – I will never do that again. And how the hell can you differentiate stuff– A tree's a tree, fer Pete's sake.

Well... One poison oak encounter later, I learned that not all tree leaves make good toilet paper. But... you really didn't need to know that.

SO... Deep in the fireplace and buried in glowing embers, a Dutch oven sat with the rabbit meat. Stewing inside was also (more) rice, and the only can of potatoes in the house, and enough onion and garlic powder to choke a horse. It's amazing what starvation and too much tomato sauce does to you. The air was filled with delicious smells, but I knew it wouldn't be ready for several hours. This meat was Gamey as hell even after a day-and-a-half of soaking in salt-and-vinegar water to wash out the flavor. It was gonna be a total bust if it wasn't done right – there were too many things invested in it to lose..

I took my two fish into the kitchen, ready for my first solid meal in two days. The radio had forecast a major Nor'easter coming sometime this week. And after last night's rain, everything outside was coated in ice - including the firewood on the porch. So I had to go out and break that off before quartering more logs. I decided not to bother getting fully undressed. The fire was gonna die, and it would be a while before I had usable wood.

One fish I wrapped in foil to put in a 'cooler' outside. It was just a wooden box from the barn that I'd filled with snow and covered with a board and some logs to keep animals out. Another lesson learned the hard way. The other, I decided to stuff and pan-fry. I grabbed a cast-iron skillet and threw some oil in it. Just a note... don't ever use anything else BUT cast iron in a fireplace. I tried to use a Teflon pan the first day, and melted the handle.

I grabbed a couple packets of old saltines and a dusty bottle of white wine from the pantry.

I remembered the battle we'd had to have alcohol in the house. You woulda thought we were trying to sneak in moonshine, the way Splinter had reacted. It probably didn't help when April found the six-pack of Hard Lemonade out in the barn. Then we just blamed it on Casey...

Well... After nearly breaking my neck in the dark, I'd managed to find the wine rack in the basement. I mixed it all together with some butter-pats from the gas station, and – you guessed it... more rice. I managed to keep my scarf ends out of it as I stuffed my fish. Like I'd said before, you force yourself to learn new skills when in dire need. Just the idea of ravioli made my stomach turn, so I was forced to grab some old cookbooks and started reading. But there's only so much you could do with rice and a garlic powder.

...jeezus, I'm starting to sound like a TV chef.

I threw a lid on top and carried it back to the living room. I made some room and nestled the frying pan into the glowing coals. This would take maybe 40 minutes to cook, so I figured I deserved a chance to put my feet up for a bit. I flopped onto the couch and started to take my scarf off and--

Footsteps on the front porch.

Who the hell was this?

I fixed my scarf and got to my feet, taking the poker from the fireplace. There was no reason for anyone to be here - I didn't get mail, and April and Casey didn't even come here this time of year. I made sure my face was covered as I sidled up to the door. Through the blanket, I could see a figure standing on the porch. I held the poker at ready and threw the door open.

"Ah!" The woman yelped, nearly dropping her load of mail all over the porch.

"Uh, hi.." I said, blinking at her.

"Hello... I didn't expect anyone to be here," the woman said, clutching her bag. She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment.

"Can I... help you?" I replied, moving the poker out of view. She wasn't a danger, unless she threatened to paper-cut me.

"Uh, yes..." She said, pulling a large envelope out, "This... place is usually vacant this part of the year."

"I guess," I shrugged, "It's quiet."

She gave me a puzzled look before offering me the package.

"I guess this is for you then." She held up the envelope, addressed to 'current resident'. I looked down at the envelope in her hand and frowned. Who would send mail here? And why... I looked up at her face before reluctantly taking the envelope.

"Well, have a good day," she said, stepping back.

"Yeah... you too," I mumbled, looking at the envelope in my hand. I closed the door and stepped back towards the fireplace. I opened the envelope and found another, smaller one inside. I tossed the first envelope into the fire and read the front of this new one. On the front in very careful writing, it was marked 'Raphael'.

I knew that handwriting. I'd seen it my entire life. Tried to mimic it...

How the hell did He know that I was here? Did Casey spill it? Did a neighbor contact Casey about a trespasser? Or was it just a wild guess? No... He wouldn't guess like that.

I stared at my name thoughtfully. What was this... a scolding for taking advantage of Casey's place? Or better yet, a demand to come back and get over my 'tantrum', as Mike so thoughtfully put it?

I held out the envelope just above the fire, ready to throw it in. Now I could finally sever the remaining ties to my past…

Five minutes, I was still holding the envelope.

"Dammit..." I muttered. I looked at the envelope and set it face-down on the mantle. This one thing... all I had to do was throw it out. Burn the letter. Burn the bridges... But those last vestiges of sonhood refused to let go. That weakness.

I then put my jacket on and headed back out to the porch. I had work to do, and I was too wound up to wanna eat anything now. I headed out to the back porch and grabbed my axe. The ice coated the wood stack and the porch in a couple inches of ice. I used the butt end of the axe and started breaking ice off the logs, ice chips flying past my face.

Why now... why did this damn letter have to show up? Was it some elaborate order to come home? Some guilt trip to make me come back? I switch to the blade and started hacking.

No, I wasn't going to throw away the few months I'd been away to go crawling back. I was told to leave anyways! I didn't cry about it, I didn't beg April to take me in. I took care of myself; I worked my way through life and did damn fine on my own. Sure, some shit happened, but when DIDN'T it? They could go fuck themselves for all I cared. I was on my own, and better for it.

I looked down at the frozen stack, wiping the snow off my face. It was frozen solid – this stack was useless now.

"Dammit!" I threw the axe with a grunt, the blade imbedding in the wall. I dropped to my knees and held my head in my hands. The muscles in my neck and shoulders were tightening up. My head throbbed as I got to my feet and pulled the axe from the wall. I turned and headed around to the front of the house and towards the barn. I had to do something to get distracted.

I closed the barn door behind me and walked down the corridor to the old metal-smithing furnace. I remembered the last time I was in there, helping Leo create some new swords after he had his tail handed to him by the Shredder. I felt around before finding the kerosene lantern I'd left the other day, and lit it with one of the last matches in my book. I'd have to figure out how to get some more before the storm. Light filled the space with a faint yellow glow, lighting up the corridor of old horse stalls, and a homemade punching bag I'd hung from the loft. And old horse blanket stuffed with dried hay.

I adjusted my gloves and walked over to the bag. I gave a few hooks before going full bore into the hundred pound bag. Left, right, left, right, cross, jab, uppercut...

Why... It'd been MONTHS since I'd left. Punch. Almost a Year. Punch. If he really had anything to say – punch - he would have said it in the beginning. Kick. I attacked the bag until my arms didn't want to move. But he didn't do a damn thing. He just agreed with Leo and threw me out on the damn street. Sweat poured as I threw it around like a ragdoll. I caught the bag and held it, catching my breath. One son over another. The one thing he vowed never to do...

As I clung to the bag, I wondered briefly – What if they were coming here? They couldn't really know if I was here. Unless Casey let it out... But that wouldn't make sense. I was ousted! I sighed, dropping the bag and turning away.

"What the fuck is going on?"

The sunlight dimmed, leaving only the lantern to fill the darkness. I worked my way around the stalls, grabbing whatever scrap wood I could find. It would have to do until the logs outside would thaw more. I blew out the lantern and made my way to the front. There was still more work to do. Lock down the house, get the fire going, check on the food. I could feel my stomach chewing my backbone...

I pulled the barn door open, when lights suddenly flashed across the yard. I ducked down as they slowly continued across the front of the barn. It then grew dark, and the sound of engines echoed against the building. I peered out again, and saw a police cruiser. The postal lady must have reported a squatter.

A cop emerged from the vehicle, and then a second, holding a flashlight in one hand. A solid beam of light scanned the yard as the two officers slowly approached the house. I watched them, knowing I was stuck... anywhere I went would show tracks in the snow. And the treeline was so far back... One cop came up to the front door and knocked. The second made his way around to the back of the house, holding the flashlight. Maybe they'd give up and leave... I could hear the echo of static from their radios.

As soon as they disappeared from view, I hauled ass around to the back porch. I could make it before the second cop got there. As I leapt onto the top step, a beam of light flashed from just around the corner. I barely managed to climb up into the eaves above the porch when the officer rounded the corner. I clung to the beams, just barely watching in the corner of my eye as he made his way up the steps. He tilted his head to one side and I heard a crackle.

"Footsteps in the back. Could be multiple persons. Looks like they've been here a while," he murmured, pulling a gun from his holster. Christ, not again...

He used his foot and tapped the door open, aiming flashlight and gun into the house. I took the chance to swing my legs down and catch his head, throwing him against the frame of the door. He cussed, dropping the flashlight and falling inside. The gun I couldn't see as I jumped down and tackled him.

"HEY!"

We scuffled out towards the main hallway, setting off his radio a few times before I finally punched him out. The radio crackled a couple times, and then the front door busted open. I heard footsteps rush in as I scrambled out of sight.

Gunshots rang through the house as I ducked into the living room and slammed the door shut. I could hear the cop talking into his radio as I shoved a chair up under the door handle. He was calling for backup. I was gonna have the entire police force out here in five minutes or less. I would have to leave again. AGAIN.

If I had just stayed in the damn city, this would never have happened.. there were plenty of places to hide without this kind of crap. I could crawl into another sewer in another corner of the city and never see the others again. It'd be better shelter and I'd be able to survive better than this. It was now or never.. I had to go back to the city, hell or high water. I would only go with what I wore... There was no sense in getting bogged down with stuff. I went to the fireplace and threw pieces of the hot fish into my mouth before pulling my jacket on. I looked at the letter on the mantle and frowned. The chair holding back the door banged and scraped at the floor as it inched open. I grabbed the letter and stuffed it into my back pocket, when the door flew open.

"FREEZE! Put your—What the hell..."

He could see me, even in the dim lighting. I grabbed the frying pan from the fireplace and charged him, eight pounds of glowing cast iron burning my palms. He fired twice before I could take a swing. Fish and Fuzz hit the wall, a hot sear mark left on his forehead. I dropped to one knee, both hands still burning as I took his car keys. I left the pan and the cops in the house as I headed out the front door. That car had better be warm...

I could hear sirens approaching from a few miles away. I climbed into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I slammed into gear before slip-sliding down the driveway. At the end of the driveway, two cruisers turned into the entrance, lights flashing. I pushed the pedal to the floor and rammed my way through them, wheels slipping as they pushed back, unable to get out of their cars. I managed to push one over the edge of a ditch before gunning it down the road. The salted roads were easier to keep control on, and I accelerated quickly. The radio squelched and scratched as the police communicated with dispatch, calling for backup and giving coordinates. It woulda been useful, if I knew where the hell I was driving. I felt like I was riding a roller-coaster as I traveled down twists and turns, barely keeping my back wheels on the pavement. I knew the best way out would be to get on road the bus took to get me here, but that would mean risking going through town. Unless there was a way around...

I took a turn and headed towards the outer edge of town, near the cornfields. This was one road that I remembered from old trips in the past. I could circumvent the whole town and get back to the highway in fifteen minutes or so. I followed the edge of the woods along the cornfields, working out a plan. I could ditch the cruiser somewhere and take a bus back to the city. I would have a better chance hiding there than anywhere else. As much as I hated the idea... I wanted to go back to the city. Just until things calmed down, or I found a place of my own...

I was driving so fast, so distracted, that I never saw the warning about the blind intersection. I remembered planting my feet against the brakes before t-boning the suv. Spinning and then rolling over. Snow, mud and then darkness.

"Dispatch to 1204"

"1204 to Dispatch, go"

"Just received report of airbag detonation in missing cruiser. Possible MVA (Motor Vehicle Accident) with PI (Personal Injury). Forwarding coordinates now."

"Coordinates received.. ETA 5 minutes"

"10-4"

I opened my eyes, a shooting pain in my side, and my head throbbing. I wriggled out from where I was wedged between the seat and steering wheel, landing on the roof with a hard thud. I crawled through shattered glass and slush until I was out from under the car. I rolled onto my shell, breathing hard. My side was killing me. I reached down and touched the spot – it was warm. I removed my hand, and found my fingers covered with blood. I dropped my head back, exhausted and discouraged. Beyond discouraged. This was a fucking nightmare. I rolled to my good side and carefully got to my feet, pain shooting through to the back of my shell. I climbed my way out of the ditch and looked around.

In the trees, there was a small SUV with the front fender and parts of the engine were obliterated, smashed and curled backwards. I could see that the airbags had gone off as I walked over. I felt a rock form in the pit of my stomach as I walked over. The truck looked familiar..

When I came up to the driver's side door, I froze. I knew the woman. It was the owner of the convenience store... with the little.. girl.

"Oh no... no no no..."

I looked in the back seat, seeing nothing At first. Maybe it was just the wife. But then I see a hand grasping a teddy-bear. My hands shook as I opened the door and climbed into the side, leaning over the seat to check on the girl. She had a gash on her forehead – she wasn't moving. I peeled off one of my coats and laid it on her. I wanted to move her, but I'd learned long ago that it could cause more harm than good. If she could stay warm, she'd have a chance. I pushed myself up and looks at the driver. She was laying back in her seat, head to one side, blood trickling from her mouth.

"Shit..." I sighed, looking away. I couldn't leave them.. but before I could do anything, the sound of sirens echoed from down the road. I had to get out of there fast.

I could barely see through stinging tears, as I turned and ran into the woods.


	16. Chapter 16

((I wish to thank everyone who has continued to read my story, especially reviewers. I always appreciate every comment. A Very big thank you to my cohort Splinter for her encouragement. You're awesome... 3 And Happy Father's Day to my paternal readers. Turtles belong to Viacom, Joseph Conrad owns the quote))

No Place to Call Home

Chapter 16

"_Who knows what true loneliness is - not the conventional word but the naked terror?  
To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most  
miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion."  
_~Joseph Conrad

I kept running until I couldn't breathe. I came to a tree and slumped against it, gasping for breath and holding my side. I had no idea where I was or how far into the woods I'd gone. There were no trails, no clear paths. I just wandered aimlessly, searching for some refuge. I couldn't get the image of the little girl out of my head. The sound of sirens echoed through the trees, chasing after me and drowning out everything else.

The cold seeped into my clothing and made everything hurt. The burns on my hands from the frying pan still had developed blisters, and I was forced to put them in the snow every few minutes. I used the back of my hand to open the thin coat I was wearing and pulled up my shirt. Blood soaked the surrounding area of the bullet wound, the shirt and the waistband of my jeans. The bullet was lodged in shell, but it had torn me up on the way through. My head pounded with every exhausted heartbeat as I covered up again. I was tired. And frozen. I needed shelter or I was going to freeze to death.

The sky cleared, a full moon casting a soft blue glow onto the snow. The woods were black and desolate, but the sky was full of stars. I leaned my head against the trunk of a tree, looking around. I was lost. I moved to the leeward side of the tree as a breeze went through, huddling down and closing my eyes. Just a couple minutes, I told myself. Amidst the creaking branches, I heard a faint, hollow sound. Just a hallucination, I told myself. But again, I heard the sound. Again, hollow.. clunky noises. Definitely not a dream...

I pulled myself onto my feet, listening. The sound was nearby—maybe there was some chance of a shelter. Or at least some structure with protection. I moved from tree to tree, clinging and listening. Just past a thicket of tall blueberry bushes, there was a small building. It was leaning to one side, and parts of the roof had caved in. As I approached, I could see what was making the noise – a wooden chime, made of hollow sticks and twine. I felt my way around the building until I found a door, and then pushed my way in.

It was a struggle not to trip over junk as my eyes adjusted to the light – or lack thereof. There was a large pool of light in the middle of the floor, with some light coming in through broken windows. I dropped to my knees, clutching my side. It was getting harder to breathe, and my whole body just felt heavy. I rocked back and forth, rubbing my shoulders and trying to get some blood back into my hands. I was out of the wind for now, but it was just delaying the inevitable. I looked around the room, seeing long benches turned over and in broken piles. If I'd had matches, I could build a fire. Strangely, I didn't care about fire. I didn't care about getting warm, or finding food, or knowing where I was. I just wanted to sleep.

I laid down in the circle of moonlight, pulling my jacket tighter around me. The running had kept me warm, and now laying down, I shivered violently. It was harder to move my fingers. It wouldn't be long before they just stopped working. It wouldn't be longer before I lost them. Not like I had many to spare...

The idea of freezing to death crossed my mind – I was gonna die out here. It wasn't a question of 'If'. Our entire lives have walked the narrow line between life and death, just careful enough to avoid it's cold grip. I imagined some kids coming in and finding me, frozen stiff. Wouldn't that be a shitstorm. Little green man found dead in abandoned cabin. If I died here, it would be over. No pain, no cold... Just blissful, comforting sleep. Better than getting stabbed, or run over or choking or drowning.. There were worse ways to die.

Contemplating death, my life slowly flashed before my eyes. Growing up in the sewers. Tucked away in dark corners, clinging to the sound of my brothers' heartbeats. That time the lair got invaded by dogs. Looking up through the sewer grates at night, wondering what snow was. The first time seeing the ocean. The time Splinter was sick, and we thought he was going to die. The first time we fought Shredder. Going to the farm for the first time. Leo's trip to Japan. April and Casey's engagement. City-wide war, and losing track of brothers. and then leaving the lair.

I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath. How did this happen.? One day, I was fighting for freedom and to be in charge of my own life, to not worry about curfews and lectures. Crammed in a little sewer with four others, no privacy, no escape from each other, except for rooftop runs at night. The next, I'm out on the streets alone. Thrown out to find food and a safe place to sleep without some punks trying to mug me. During the worst damn winter in twenty Years. But I'm labeled the asshole, I'm the bad guy. No matter what Leo did, I'm the guilty one. I didn't ask for this. I _NEVER_ asked for this. This _Never_ would have happened with the others. No matter what they did, this wouldn'a happened to them. But Splinter'll force me out – he'd already made his choice before that fight had even broken out. And now I sit, waiting for the Grim Reaper to come and cut me down.

I reached into my back pocket, slowly pulling the crumpled envelope from my back pocket. I forced myself to sit up, staring at the envelope in my hands. What was it going to be... a lecture? Or one of those 'you have to compromise with your brother' situations..? I didn't want to know, but... if it was my fate to die tonight, I didn't want to go without knowing. I tore open the envelope with my teeth and dropped the letter in my lap..

* * *

_Dear Raphael,_

_I have sat here with pen and paper for several weeks n__ow, and with each passing day it becomes harder to put into words what I wish to say. In the heat of the moment, words are often said before being carefully considered. Since the time shortly after your mutation, I realized that I was more than your caretaker. I knew what it meant to be a father. It is a job that I take great pride in and I am honored every day to see what wonderful young men my sons are becoming. When your words sought to take that honor from me, I reacted harshly and for that, Raphael, I am truly sorry. Perhaps you said words in haste as well, I do not know. Perhaps you do not see me as your father. _

_ I cannot tell you how to feel or what to think, just know, Raphael, that everyday I am terrified at what might be happening to you. I have heard bits of information that worry me, and I can only hope that things have not gotten too far beyond your control. As I write this, I am hoping that the rumors are true and that you have found sanctuary in the old cabin. Even so, Raphael, that cabin is not home. And that cabin does not have the family who misses you and worries for you. Your brothers and I searched the city for many weeks when you left and did not return. Do not think that your family has given up hope. Do not think that your father has given up hope. _

_ Regardless of how you feel about me, Raphael, you will always be a son to me. I saw you through illness, and broken bones, through tears and through anger. I have seen you through happiness, and pride, through learning, and through love. A person cannot endure these things without a bond being formed. It is more than the bond of a master and student, My Son. Such a bond can be strained and can be torn, but it can never be truly broken. The only way to sever such a bond is for one person to cut it. I could never cut that bond, Raphael. I will take it with me to my grave. Michelangelo is very angry, he is angry in general, and with me in particular. He believes it is my fault that you have gone, and perhaps it is. I definitely did not help the situation. _

_ I will end this letter, My Child, My Dear Lost Child, by asking you to come home. It is not an order and it is not a demand, but a request. I miss you and your brothers miss you. We both have much to atone for, Raphael, and we cannot do that so far apart. You need only call and I will be there. You need only come home, and I will welcome you with open arms. Please, My Son, for your sake, for mine, and for our family's, look into your heart and see where you truly belong. Your heart has never lead you wrong, Raphael. It will not do so now. _

_Your Father In Spirit, if not in Name _

_Hamato Splinter_

* * *

As I lowered my hands, time seemed to slow. I reread the letter, making sure I was reading it right. Maybe was a dream, or some pre-death hallucination thing. Splinter wanted me to come home. But.. I couldn't do that. Not after all this time.. after everything I've been through. I gave up all his teachings, gone against my own personal principles.. Hell, I even threw out my sai into that pond in Central park. Nearly killed by the police I don't know how many times. Traveling all this way to East fucking Nowhere. It was he who threw me out here in the first place. I can't just turn around and go back like nothing happened.

I looked at the letter again. He said he'd heard what was going on. How would he know? Probably Casey, that jabber-jawing bastard. How much Did he know? Wait... why was I suddenly worried about what he thought of my actions. I sighed wearily. Even all the way out here, I couldn't escape his reach.

I had thought living on my own would be better than the lair.. But these past few months had been the lowest of my life. I had transformed into something I didn't recognize. Robbing people and bumming jobs to survive. Risking my life for material things. Letting a stupid skank fool me into thinking there was something between us. Living hand to mouth, hiding in cardboard boxes. Why the hell have I been living this way. No amount of shit I got from Splinter was worth this. Not even on his worst days.

Looking back at the argument, I could see it all now with my eyes unclouded- wait, no... not 'eyes unclouded', I HATE that damn phrase. SO friggen overused... Now that I'd gotten my head out of my ass, it started to make sense. Look at the people I'd gotten surrounded with... Jake never got to make peace with his dad after coming back from the war. The Salesman was going home to a funeral after years of not being there. Even that dead guy in the park... Their lives were all screwed up. And now, I was being given a chance to make things right. I finally understood.

The anger and turmoil sloughed off my shoulders, draining from my limbs. I dropped my chin to my chest and sobbed. Loudly. I was overwhelmed. It was such a daunting task, and I really wasn't sure if I could do it. To get up, injured, get out of this place, avoid the police that are pissed off and searching for a thief (and now probably a murderer).. go back to the city... and face him again. There was no guarantee I'd make it. And if I did... I would have to start all over again, from scratch. And what of the others? Leo was the reason this whole mess started in the first place. He would make it impossible. But I had to try.

I pulled myself up onto my feet. Sitting here wasn't getting me anywhere. This would be the best time to go back, through the darkness. With the thought of warmth, I worked my way around the room, rummaging for anything useful. The building was full of graffiti and cans, there was bound to be something useful. In one corner, I found a backpack full of spray-paint, Twinkies and empty beer cans. Then I found a pullover sports jacket covered in New England Patriots crap – but it had a lighter in it. Thank god... It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. I could survive this night..

I threw a pile of wood scraps into the middle of the floor. There were benches and seats in piles all through this little building. It made tinder easy to find. I used one of the spray-paint cans for accelerant and started up a small fire. The room lit up, and I could see benches and old books all over the floor, and a bunch of broken windows. As the fire grew, it re-energized my desire to survive, not to mention the feeling in my hands and feet. My side started to hurt again as blood returned to my limbs. I tore a piece of my shirt and packed it into the wound (not without enough cussing for the whole county to hear.) I ate my fill of twinkies, melted snow for wintergreen tea, and prepared for the long journey back. If I played my cards right, it would be a quiet trip back. Then I could just go and talk to Splinter about this.. if he still felt as inviting as he did when he wrote the letter...

It didn't take long to prepare. I only took what I wore, and once I was warm, I put out the fire and followed the stars North...


	17. Chapter 17

((Well, after a couple difficult years, from job drama to cancer survival, I finally got my act together and got this chapter written. The next chapter is currently in the works, and boy is it a doozy... I definitely want to thank Splinter... her friendship over the years and beta skills have been monumental in getting me to keep working on this story. ))

No Place to Call Home

Chapter 17

_"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience  
in which you really stop to look fear in the face.  
You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror.  
I can take the next thing that comes along...'  
You must do the thing you think you cannot do." _  
~Eleanor Roosevelt

_"When you come to the end of all the light you know,  
and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown,  
faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen:  
Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly." _

~Edward Teller

It didn't take long to get through the forest. I could hear the traffic better than I could before. The fire had definitely thawed my brain a bit.. I must have walked in circles when I was half-frozen. With some food in my gut and another layer on, it was a little easier to tolerate the cold. The bullet wound - was another matter... That would have to be treated later on. I followed the echo of car rumbles and headlight beams, until I was back on the road. I wasn't going back to the farmhouse. There was still chance the police were still going through the place. There was nothing worth going back for anyways. I kept close to the treeline, in case any cruisers passed by.

It was still dark when I came into town. The roads were empty, save for the occasional pickup or snowplow. And now the streetlights blocked out most of the stars. I knew the greyhounds were still in operation, but the first run wouldn't be for a few hours. I came to the station and check the schedule. The first run was at 7:20am. I peeked through the window for signs of a clock - of course, there isn't one. Down the street, there was a small 24 hour gas station - and probably a clock. I bundled up, fixed my scarf and hood, and made my way down the road.

I stepped inside the store, the smell of hot coffee and hotdogs making my stomach growl immediately. A heavy-set woman was emptying trash-bags, her back turned to me.

"Morning", she said, way too cheerfully.

"Morning," I said, glancing around for cameras. "You know what time it is?"

"Quarter past six," she replied, picking up the bags and walking them to the door, "Waiting for the bus?"

"Uh.. yeah", I stammered. I didn't realize I'd been in hiding for that long. "It's too cold to wait outside."

"You can have some coffee if you want," she said, pointing towards the sink. "It's a couple hours old, but it's still hot."

Old was an understatement - the coffee poured like sludge and dissolved a spoon, but it was a cup of heaven. I drank down one cup, and then a second. I could feel it coating my stomach like molasses, and warm my insides.

Once I was properly coffee-logged, I made my way to the bathroom. I took a moment to check my wound. It throbbed as I warmed up, and any twisting or bending made the pain shoot up my side and into my ribs. The bleeding had slowed, though. It must've clotted on its own. I pulled my coats back on and fixed my scarf. As I stepped out, there was a payphone on the opposite wall. The store was still empty, so I took a chance to make a phone call.

Punch in a few numbers. And waited... and waited.

"Wake up, Sunshine." Gotta love collect. There's a click, then a thump. Like the phone hitting the floor.

"Dammit... friggin collect," Casey grunted. "Use a quarter next time, damn freeloader.."

"Well, that ain't very nice," I said. It felt good to give someone shit after so long.

"When you get calls from 'Wake up, Sunshine' at – half past SIX... AFTER being up half the night with the Northampton POLICE..."

"Well, it ain't been no picnic here either.."

"Jeezus, Raph... where you at now?"

" I'm fine... look, I need you to meet me. Port Authority terminal, north gate."

"Hold on, hold on..." he muttered, papers rustling in the background. "Yer takin' the bus back?"

"Yeah, 7:20 bus. Just don't tell anyone this time."

"Tell anyone," he yawned, "I ain't said a word."

"Bullshit," I replied, glancing over my shoulder, "How the hell did Splinter know where to send the letter?"

"Hey, don't blame me. April talks to them more than I do."

"Yer still a blabbermouth," I sighed. "It'll be good to see you again."

"Same here, just be Careful.."

"It's just a short ride back, I'll be -" A bell jangled from the front of the store. Standing in the doorway of the station was a police officer.

"Raph, listen to me, there's a warra-"

"I gotta go," I said, turning back to the phone.

"Dammit, Raph, listen-"

"7:20, see me there." Click.

I made myself inconspicuous by the road-maps as I listened in.

"I thought you were busy. I've been seeing cruisers through here all night."

"Probably the full moon. Makes people crazy, " the cop replied, rubbing his forehead. "Between the hit-and-run and that damn squatter, I'll be doing paperwork all weekend. I just wanna get home have breakfast and sleep this thing off."

"Well, if you wait a few minutes, I'll have some fresh coffee ready for you."

"Thanks, Sandy..."

The cop turned towards the line of coffee carafes, and I took the chance to edge towards the door. I paused by the newspapers, still wrapped in those plastic binder things.. the titles screamed i huge, black lettering:

GUNMAN EVADES POLICE AFTER NORTHAMPTON SHOOTOUT

OFFICER INJURED IN SHOOTOUT, GUNMAN AT LARGE

POLICE ON SEARCH FOR GUNMAN IN NORTHAMPTON SHOOTOUT

HIT AND RUN INJURES TWO, POLICE SEEK WITNESSES

Holy shit... My eyes flashed from paper to paper. The standoff with the cops was all over the news. As was the car crash with the mom and the kid. The coffee in my stomach suddenly soured...

The situation was too dangerous. I had to get out of this gas station and onto the bus as soon as possible. I pulled my collar up and walked towards the door. My hand on the handle, and-

"Have a good day - and enjoy your trip.."

I turned and looked at the cashier, only to see the cop stepping up to the register. I gasped a little when I saw a pan-sized welt on his forehead, and turned back.

It took everything in me not to run out the door.

"Shit shit shit..."

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and headed across the street. I had to get back to the station and hide until the bus showed up. I didn't look back as I hoofed it across the street. He couldn't have recognized me - there was no way. I had a different jacket, my face was covered... I would be fine.

The snow lit up around me. Headlights.. I glanced over my shoulder - the cruiser. It was coming this way... I turned down the first alley I came to, and pulled myself up onto a fire escape. My side burned as my weight hung in the air, threatening to pull me down.

The cruiser slowed, pointing a floodlight down the alley. I hooked my arms around the ladder rung, the burns on my hands tearing even in the protective gloves. The cruiser slowly moved the lights back and forth for what seemed like an hour, then finally pulled the light back, driving away.

I lost my grip, falling seven or eight feet to the ground, tumbling down a pile of trash-bags. I screamed into the bags as the cruiser pulled away. Everything HURT. I rolled onto my back and pulled my jacket up. Blood was smeared down my side, and my hands were constricting into claws from the burns. I pulled my gloves off with my teeth before plunging my hands into the snow.

After a few minutes, I got to my feet and pulled my gloves back on. NOW I had a problem. The cop recognized me, and by now was probably prowling around the bus station. And both of my hands were totally useless.

I took the back way to the bus station. I took a handful of clean snow and rubbed it into the bullet wound. The cold could slow down the bleeding and numb the pain til I could do something better. The bus was already pulled up to the station, the driver loading luggage while people boarded.

I took a peek into the station - there was one person tending the ticket booth, and in one corner, there was a sign that read 'lost and found'. In it lay a suitcase, complete with wheels and a busted handle. A bag Would make me more inconspicuous... I opened the door and walked in.

"Can I help you?"

I looked up and saw a middle-aged woman standing at a computer, drinking from a "#1 Grandma" coffee mug and reading the front page of the newspaper.

"Nah, just getting my luggage back, " I said as I pulled the back out with the back of my hand. It was the only place my hands weren't blistered.

She looked up at me before sipping her drink.

"Alright.. need a ticket?"

"Eh - no, I"m good. Gave it to the guy outside."

"Alright, have a good day then..." she said, turning back to her newspaper. Guess I didn't interest her that much...

I looked around for the cruiser out front before rushing out the door and to the bus. The driver was still putting bags into the side storage.

"Morning, where you headed?"

"New York City, " I said, handing off the suitcase.

"Got your ticket?"

"I gave it to the woman inside - rushin' and all..."

"Hop on in, then, " he said, stuffing the bag into the cargo hold.

I boarded the bus, breathing a sigh of relief. If there was one good thing about small town folks, they were a trusting type... I took a row of seats towards the back, lifting the arm rests and stretching my legs across. Something clicked and squelched, and then the driver's voice came over an intercom.

"Good Morning, everyone, Thank you for riding, blah blah blah..."

I glazed over a little - he mentioned stopping in Hartford and New Haven, and a time delay due to the weather. Probably another storm. I didn't care about it, I was just glad to find a warm place. The driver finished talking and turned off the lights. I was more than tired enough to sleep - even a little overtired. It had been a long miserable night and I wanted to be coherent when I talked to Splinter again. Splinter...

I needed to look at the letter again. I pulled it out of my coat pocket and hit the overhead light. The first time I'd read, it was so much of a blur... but now, I was able to really sit and focus.

He had looked for me... He hadn't just let the door hit me on the way out. I remembered back when I'd gone to see April at Christmas, and Mike had followed me out to the alley. He thought I was having a 'tantrum', and should just come home. I blew up at him and said that Splinter had thrown me out.

Even with the letter in my hands, I still had my doubts. He had sounded so final when he showed me the door. There was no guarantee the offer would still be up when I saw him again. This could have been written weeks ago. Months even.

As I read and reread the letter, my first thought was 'How do I do this?' I sure as hell couldn't just walk into the lair and say "Honey I'm Home" - no fanfare, no flower petals... no angel wings. More like police negotiations, except I'm the one wearing the dynamite vest.

Maybe meeting somewhere else. April's maybe? neutral location, no brothers, just April. Gawd I've missed her. She's probably the only one searching for me. I'd say Mike, but he probably hates my guts for leaving him in the alley. Leo's such a dick, he'd probably try to rub my nose in it, or say that I was running back with my tail between my legs. Donnie... who knows.

This time it'd be just the two of us talking. No screaming, no accusing... no Leo. If I had Splinter's understanding, I'd be back in the city. If things went well, I could go back to the sewers. It'd be kinda funny though... after all that time gone, dressing like a goodwill Eskimo, I'd feel pretty naked with just gear and weapons.

Weapons... my sai were sitting at the bottom of The Pond in Central Park. Well... I guess my trip back was gonna take a little longer. I had no idea what condition those would be in after dirt and ice and duck crap. Or if the water under the bridge was even exposed. If the sai were ruined, it could take a long time to fix them.

Some half-assed ninja I was, coming back empty-handed, no money, burnt, shot up and trashed weapons. Splinter may just look at me and close the door again. My stomach knotted up, and my heart felt like it was beating inside out. Nerves, heartburn... probably both. The fact I was melting inside my coat didn't help either, but I couldn't' take anything off. I could barely move my hands without the blisters reminding me of last night.

Friends don't let friends use burning cast iron for swinging practice.

There was a growing pressure in my side - when bullets enter the body, it kinda cooks the meat around the hole and toughens everything. The cold had held off a lot of the pain, but now it was waking up. And the bullet was still embedded and tearing when I turned my body. It was getting harder to move or even breathe. The less movement I made, the better. I tucked the letter back into my pocket and turned off the lights. My eyelids sank lower and lower, and I could barely see straight. I pulled my scarf up, folded my arms, and let the tires rumble me to sleep.

* * *

I woke to a tingle on the back of my neck. Not the good tingle - the 'something's wrong' kind. I forced one eye open and looked down. My scarf had fallen down below my face. I yanked it back up to my beak and glanced around. There was an older lady turned towards the window on the other side of the aisle... Another person was asleep further up front. And it was still pretty dim in the bus. Maybe it was nothing...

I turned towards the window and took my gloves off, gritting my teeth. My hands were killing me, and my side was burning like hell. The time in the bus had been long enough to get the blood flowing again. I slowly pressed my hands against the window, which were thankfully cold. My chances of getting into New York and out of sight were slim if my hands were lamed up.

The skin on the back of my neck prickled again, and I turned. The old woman's head was turning away again, like she'd been looking over... I turned away again, putting my gloves back on. I knew I had been on the bus too long... attention was the last thing I needed. I pulled the gloves back on and readjusted my scarf and hood.

In the seat in front of me, there was a guy reading a New York Times. Definitely wouldn't have noticed me, I figured. As he turned the page, I peeked over to look, when I saw a police sketch and a large headline:

Possible Leads To 'Green Bandit' In Overnight Violence In Southern Mass; FBI To Take Over Investigation.

I did a double-take. The police sketch was of a man with a wide face with a flat round nose, in a hood. I strained a little to see what the words said under the picture, when the bus suddenly slowed down and came to a slow stop, jostling everyone as it rode over some frost heaves.

"Alright, everyone, we're in lovely New Haven, just a nice jaunt to the Big Apple. We'll be stopping for about ten minutes, so stretch your legs and get some air.."

The man in front of me got up and pulled out a pack of Marlboro's from his pocket. I ducked back and hunkered down as he put on a hat and headed to the door. I leaned over and reached around to grab the stack of papers.

Under the picture, it read 'heavy set, early twenties, balding. Is known for wearing green face paint and 3-fingered gloves. Wanted for armed robbery, assaulting an officer and breaking an entering. Considered armed and very dangerous. Do not approach, call...'

I couldn't believe it. I read it again. This was supposed to be ME. No wonder the woman had been looking at me. I went through more of the paper - it was full of stories from everything that had happened months ago: the police station invasion, the evidence room shootout - hell, they were even pinning the dead guy I'd found on the bench on me.

There was another paper on the seat in front of me, and I reached around to grab it. It was the Northampton local paper. Filled with pictures of the farmhouse, the cruiser - the SUV. Split wide open and parts everywhere. My heart sank in my chest as I read - The girl and the mom had to be pried out of the vehicle. They were airlifted to a nearby hospital...

I covered my mouth, trying to keep some self-control. I never meant to hurt them. After all this time of pushing and trying to prove to myself that I could go on my own - people suffered from my actions. The memory of coming up on the crash kept running over and over in my head. The blood on the mom's head, the little girl not moving. Broken glass everywhere, the truck crumpled almost beyond recognition. Not knowing if they saw me come to them, or see me leave them in the freezing darkness. Curse me for abandoning them to die...

I sank back in my seat, choking a sob and dropping my face into my hands. I never hated anyone as much as I hated myself.

* * *

I checked my watch - we were close to the arrival time - we were just crossing the bridge over Harlem River. Some things were familiar to me. It wouldn't take long to get down Park Ave to Union Station and disappear. Casey would be there, and then figure out how I would face Splinter.

The bus pulled off the road and came to a sudden stop.

"We're going to have a slight delay," the speakers crackled, " we've got something wrong with the bus and a maintenance truck would be here soon. We'll get this fixed and be at our destination in a short while, so relax and thanks for being patient."

They don't just pull over. I'd seen enough police dramas to know they were waiting for cops. I got to my feet and looked up and down the aisle.

"Nobody is allowed to leave the bus, Sir," the driver called, turning in his seat to look back. "Please take your seat, it won't take long."

I looked from the driver back to the rear door. Those always had huge bulky locks. I couldn't even punch out the windows if I tried. The windows... I looked down at the emergency window pulls - basically a rubber seal that held the window in place. Most of the windows had them.

"Please take your seat, sir." The guy up said, glaring up in the rear view mirror. I could see the guy slowly reaching for the radio, and I knew I couldn't wait.

I slowly moved back towards my seat, glancing up at the driver and at the other passengers around me. Mostly older people. Some younger people were asleep or listening to music; I could be outside before most of them could react.

"Sir, I will not ask again. Please sit-"

I grabbed the emergency pull and yanked back hard, growling as my hands burned. The window fell outward, and I jumped up onto the seat before throwing myself through the hole. I landed hard in a snowbank, my bullet wound tearing further. Pain ripped through my side as I dragged myself to an alley, clutching my side.

Just behind me, I could hear sirens approaching - lots of sirens. People yelling from the bus. I couldn't tell if it was just sounds bouncing off the buildings. I knew I was on the north end of Lexington Avenue. I figured if I could just duck into Central Park, they'd never find me. I could find a grate to slide through, and they'd never locate me again.

Adrenaline kicked in, and I ran onto a side street that I knew they couldn't drive up after me. I cut across a parking lot, approaching Park Avenue. My lungs burned from the cold as I stopped to look up and down the street. There was a tunnel that went under the train rails - I just had to hope that there wasn't somebody on the other side. The tunnel felt a lot longer as I came back into the light.

And right into a police cruiser. I had to somersault over his hood to avoid actually being hit. He skidded to a stop as I ran down the road where he'd come from. His shouts were drowned out by the sounds of increasing traffic as I turned a corner.

My body felt warmer as I raced down the sidewalk. The streets were fairly quiet with the weather and all, but it was still a challenge to get around the piles of snow. Flashing blue lights were coming from Both directions, but they were getting stuck in the traffic.

"Oh shit.."

I looked back and forth before running straight across, jumping onto car hoods and leapfrogging my way across until I got to the sidewalk. Horns and sirens blared around me as I saw the edge of Central Park further down the road. One more street and I'd be able to disappear into the trees.

"HEY!"

A body suddenly slammed into me from behind, and I hit the ground. I landed hard on my injured side, and I growled, feeling my side catch fire again. I rolled myself backwards, trying to crush the person on top of me. It was a scramble of arms and legs as I struggled to get back onto my feet. The agent and I rolled in the snow, kicking and fighting for the gun in his holster. I managed to get an arm free and punch the guy in the face, knocking him back long enough to grab the gun from his hands.

I struggled to my feet and ran through the Vanderbilt Gate into the park, clutching the gun in one sore hand. Sirens whooped not too far behind me, and I ran through the conservatory garden, past the fountains and down one of the trails. I took the magazine out of the gun and tossed the parts out into the shrubs. My hands were constricting from the fight with the agent on the ground, and I couldn't get my finger to fit in the trigger.

I had no idea how long I had run, but I had to stop. I found a refuge in one of the thicker wooded spots just north of the East Meadow. I buried my gloved hands into the snow to cool the burns, and looked down at my coat. The bottom of the coat was starting to turn red with blood - the fighting and the running was getting me into serious trouble. I was getting colder, and breathing was getting a lot more painful. I had to find a way to get down to the Museum. I knew there was a system of sewer grates there that I could go down into and vanish. There were some hot water pipes down there I could warm up with, and then make my way further south. It was just a matter of getting down there. Everything around me was bright white, which made hiding just a LIL bit more difficult.

The revving of approaching engines pulled me out of my thoughts, and I ducked down. I saw a blue four-wheeler drive by, covered in Park Enforcement insignia. Shit.. there were going to be cops on damn near every trail in the park. I heard another engine approaching and came up with a quick plan.

Grabbing a chunk of ice from one of the more coated shrubs, I waited for the bike to pull into view. As soon as the bike passed, I pelted the ice chunk as hard as possible, hitting the driver in the back of the helmet. They lost control and swerved into some bushes. I leaped out of hiding while they were stunned and grabbed them into a sleeper hold.

"Don't Move..." I said, keeping a tight grip until their struggling finally stopped. I dragged the person into the shrubs and traded jackets with them. I pulled the hood up over their head before throwing some snow on them. Then, I pulled on the helmet and walked over to the bike. I pulled it back onto the trail and drove off down the trail.

"That was easier than expected..." I said to myself, feeling rather smug. Now I could just drive my way down, and disappear out of sight. I could feel my heart pounding as I saw other four-wheelers and K-9 units on other trails as I made my way down towards the reservoir.

"Dispatch to Unit 14.."

I heard the crackle of a radio and looked down. on the bike handle, there was a mini CB radio. There must have been an earphone in the helmet, cuz I didn't see anything else that would make noise.

"Dispatch to Unit 14, respond. GPS shows you outside of assigned quadrant. Dispatch to Unit 14, Respond. "

Crap... they probably had some sort of tracker device in the vehicle. I yanked the CB out of the handle, and chucked it into the woods. Then off came the helmet - just my hat and my scarf covered my face now.

The trails were going to be infested with cops, now that they had something to look for. the reservoir was gonna be a pain in the ass to get around. Unless... I didn't go around.

I saw an opening in the trail, the reservoir stretched out in front of it. The fence was pretty low, I could probably gun it, crash through it, and drive right on the top of the ice. Straight across would save me time from going around it. And I would be a lot closer to the museum...

I revved my engine and went full throttle towards the fence, not stopping even as I saw cops on either side of me by the railings. I careened through the fencing, nearly losing grip and flipping over the handles from the force of the hit. I regained control as I rolled down the embankment onto the open ice. Behind me, I could just hear them yelling, and the sound of a motor revving up. The chase was on...

The tires spun a little before I picked up speed across the reservoir, cold wind whipping through my coat and freezing my hands. Snow pelted my face as I tried to stay in the right direction, trying to ignore the loud creaks and cracks of the ice protesting beneath me. Please don't break, PLEASE don't break...

As I flew across the ice, I took a second to think on my plan. I would only be a hundred yards from the museum - I would have no problem ducking into the grates and making my way out of the park and to the lair. Then I could really prepare myself for seeing Splinter. Offer him my sai and ask him to take me back-

"Shit", I cursed loudly. The sai...

I almost forgot about the sai. I couldn't go back to him without them. There was no underground way to get to the Pond at the south end. I would have to go down through the trails or in the wooded parts of the park. But the further south I went, it seemed the more cops there were.

I hit the other end of the reservoir, again crashing through the metal fence and landing back on the trail. I could hear approaching four-wheelers behind me, and flew up the trail towards the museum. I had to lose my tail and fast. I aimed the 4X4 down the trail and jammed the throttle on full-blast. I leapt off the seat and landed in some bushes, ducking and rolling best I could as the cops chased the sound down the trail. It took a full minute before I could drag myself to my feet. My side was on fire, and I could feel warm blood flowing down my side again. I staggered out of the bushes, half-running to the back of the museum. I could see some steam rising, and the smell of grey water beckoned to me. Sweet warmth...

I used a stick to get some leverage on the grate, and leaned against it with my body to create a hole for me to drop down into. My vision blurred for a moment, causing me to drop to my hands and knees. It took a moment for my vision to settle back to normal before I could crawl down into the tunnel. I used the back of my hands to move the grate back, and stumbled backwards into the warm darkness, laying my head back and closing my eyes. I felt more and more light-headed as I tried to move down the tunnel.

Every step was a struggle. I couldn't tell what was real, and what I was hallucinating. Flashing lights, noises, voices... growls. The smell of sewer gas was overpowering after being away from it for so long. I didn't know how far I'd gotten, but I knew I had to get out. It was stifling, suffocating... like I couldn't get enough air in. I half wondered if somebody had seen me come down here, and my heart started to race. I could only get so far down here - I wouldn't be able to go straight over to the Pond from where I was. I would have to resurface, find my bag in the water, and manage to get it out and disappear into another drainage tunnel in the park.

Something caught my boot, and I crash landed into old rainwater and trash. I pushed myself up onto my knees, wiping my face and clutching my side. I was gonna get a huge infection if the water got to my wounds. I clambered up the wall until my feet were underneath me, and I reached around, finally finding a ladder to the surface. It took every ounce in me to pull my weight up the ladder. Every reach up or leg up felt like my side was tearing open. As I came to the top, I ducked my head down and used my shoulders to push the grate up.

The hinge screeched and groaned as I pushed it up. I managed to get my upper body up through the hole and leaned on my good side so I could pull my feet up. I laid in the snow, catching my breath and looking up. The sky was only a slightly brighter shade of gray compared to earlier. I rolled onto my hands and knees, and pulled the jacket and shirt up. Everything was soaked red. I grabbed a handful of snow and washed my side off, growling as it seared my flesh. The cold dulled the pain a little, and I dragged myself to my feet. I swore the snow had gotten deeper in the short time I'd been underground. Both legs suddenly cramped, nearly dropping me to my knees. I clung to a tree trunk for dear life as my calves constricted nearly to the snapping point. My heart pounded so hard, I could almost feel it knocking against the inner wall of my chest. My hearing dipped with every rush of blood in my ears.

"Dammit!" I growled, trying to flex my toes to get the cramps to let up... it was agony to stand up, but I held onto the tree and got back on my feet. I looked around to get my bearings. I wasn't far from the Pond. I could get the sai out of the water - a quick cold dip. I'd have the sai, and then I could go see Splinter. I'd be complete... I couldn't go back, half cocked and weaponless. I was in rough condition and getting worse.

I heard the approach of voices, and knew I had to move. It was a struggle to get back to the trails. A few yards away, I could see the structure of the bridge. I could get down to the embankment near the water and look for the stuff from there.

"Over there!"

I turned my head, a lil too fast - my vision blurred and the place started to spin a little. But someone was coming towards me. I looked forward and ran towards the bridge, knowing it wouldn't take long for them to catch up. I was gonna get my sai back from the pond - If I had to fight them to get down there and out, I was ready for it. And if I didn't make it, at least I went out the way I wanted to. Fighting... Splinter would be proud. Then I wouldn't be a failure in his eyes...

I made it to the bridge and climbed up onto the side. Below, most of the water was iced over, covered in slushy snow. Right around the bridge was still relatively clear of ice. I could jump in... it would only be for a couple of minutes - it would help with the pain too.

I could hear their boots pounding the ground as I stood on the side of the bridge, looking down at the water. The water was deep for this time of year, but... I swore I could see my sai, sitting at the bottom. A glint of metal taunted me, just out of reach. I reached my arms forward, and dove over the edge.

"NO!"

Things moved slow motion as I plunged down deep... I gasped at the cold, taking in a mouthful of ice water down my throat. My body cramped, and then I lost the feeling in my arms and legs as I sank to the bottom of the pool.

Just before I blacked out... I swore I'd heard my name.

.


End file.
